


Duality

by Vampirika



Category: Alien Series, Alien vs Predator (2004), Predator Original Series (1987-1990), Predators (2010)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aliens, Blood and Gore, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fan Characters, Gen, Other, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Violence, Yautja
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampirika/pseuds/Vampirika
Summary: Humanity's efforts to gain a foothold outside their system is finally paying off; a new world ripe for research and colonization, perfectly livable, has finally been reached.  But when Silas arrives to start his task as a lead science officer, it's quickly becoming clear that there's more to this world than anyone really expected, and it may challenge him in ways he certainly never did.
Kudos: 9





	1. --arrival

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello welcome to my eternal struggle to write the stuff that's been developing in my brain for ages aaaaaaaaaaaaa

“Ow, shit.” Silas grimaced as the shuttle jerked, banging his head against the supply rack just above the hard-backed seat. He rubbed the spot gingerly, making sure he wasn’t bleeding, before craning his neck to try and see out the front screen of the craft. The turbulence coming down to land was nasty, they’d been warned; it was little wonder that the Pilgrim could barely get a clear reading of the surface from orbit. 

“You good, amigo?” Across from him, looking very uncomfortable with his broad frame stuffed into the narrow seat, Rodrigo offered him a wan smile, looking rather ashen as the shuttle jolted around them. Silas nodded, smiling back briefly. The roughest patch seemed to be over, the horizon clear outside the window from what little he could see. They had breached the upper atmosphere and seemed to have left the cloud layer behind, the shuttle angling downward in a manner that indicated they were approaching the outpost.

It was a strange sort of giddiness that seized him now, revived from the dormancy that the mundane procedures back aboard the Pilgrim had lulled it into. He was terrified and thrilled all at once, this moment perhaps the single most important of his career if not his entire life. Humanity’s first real foothold beyond their home system, and he was Chief Science Officer for it. And as if the sheer prospect of exploring and cataloguing an alien world wasn’t enough, there was a specimen already waiting for his evaluation being held at the base camp.

“Breaking cloud layer now, landing in two minutes.” The pilot called back to them, the shuttle rattling violently. They had to approach at a steeper angle than what was considered usual, given their instruments’ difficulty in communicating through the atmosphere. Silas didn’t mind, but poor Rodrigo was clearly miserable, barely holding his lunch as they careened down to the outpost below. Finally the shuttle banked, thrusters whirring loudly as they slowed the craft down to settle on the landing pad.

By the time the door slid open Silas was already unbuckled and practically running out into the sunshine. He paused to catch his breath, inhaling deeply--the air was heavy and humid, but richer in oxygen than even Earth’s atmosphere was. The outpost was situated in the middle of a large clear-cut patch, the landscape around the reinforced walls dotted with the flat discs that remained of trees, massive trunks that had stood for who knows how many years. They were not so dissimilar to Earth trees, he thought, looking past the clear-cut grounds to the edge of the forest that surrounded them. It was an awful lot of open ground for such a small base, but he supposed they wanted to be sure they had room for expansion once the immediate facilities were well-established. The sky above was blue, but a strangely green-tinted shade that was nearly white even before it reached the clouds that billowed on the horizon. He wasn’t sure which direction was which yet, and the jungle, even with the distance, was huge enough that he couldn’t identify any landmarks or mountainous formations to align himself with beyond the treetops. It was definitely a jungle, given the humidity and the dense nature of the canopy that made the interior of the forest itself a shadowy blur, mysterious and echoing with the strange calls of unknown beasts. Though as he looked skyward again, squinting against the light to make out the vague shape of the nearest, largest moon that was orbiting overhead like the Death Star, he spotted a bird-like shape darting across the cyan sky, four wings working in tandem to propel its long-bodied, streamer-tailed self overhead. He held his breath for a moment, his eyes widening as he watched until it was gone, letting out a keening wail as it went that sent a shiver of excitement down his spine.

Rodrigo groaned as he stepped down next to Silas, exhaling heavily as he steadied himself. “Wow. At first glance I’d have sworn we could just be on Earth. But now it feels like I’ve stepped out into a dream.”

“Hah.” Silas smiled, adjusting his rucksack and taking another deep breath, trying to find anything familiar in the rich smells that filled the air. It was strange--so alien and yet so comforting. What a blessing they had found this planet before anyone else.

“Hermanito, look.” Rodrigo elbowed him lightly, drawing his attention to the large turrets that scanned the surrounding area, posted periodically along the wall. There were hastily-built lookout points to join them too, something Silas assumed had been decided on when their technology failed to scan accurately enough for Maeve’s liking. “Heavy machinery for a research base, eh?”

“Well, it’s going to grow.” Silas shrugged, though he couldn’t deny that the amount of guns was...excessive. “Maeve did mention they had caught a live specimen for me to look at; maybe there’s more dangerous animal life here than they expected.”

“Looking at that jungle, I’m not surprised. Now, let’s get away from this shuttle before they decide they made a mistake and ship me off again.” Rodrigo chuckled dryly, though he still looked a little pale, letting Silas lead the way down the steps that led to the walkway where a couple soldiers waited to escort them. They saluted smartly as the scientists approached, straightening to attention as the one wearing a sergeant’s badge spoke. “Doctor MacLaughlin, Doctor Alvarez. Welcome to Alpha Point.”

They saluted in turn, and Silas looked around for a moment to try and get a better view of the outpost below the landing pads. “Where’s M--the Commander? I thought she’d be greeting us.”

“Apologies, sir. Mission Command sent us another xenobiologist; he arrived yesterday. They’ve been busy preparing for your arrival, though. Right this way.” One of the soldiers waved them along, the other falling in step behind. “Corporal Jones there will take you to your lab, Dr. Alvarez; our terraforming team made sure to gather samples for you to get started with.”

Silas repressed the urge to laugh; he could hear the grimace in Rodrigo’s voice as he acknowledged. It was a common complaint of his that terraformers were awful at gathering proper samples, always contaminating and labeling things poorly which ultimately made his task as geologic analyst harder. What wasn’t so much a laughing matter was this apparent new xenobiologist being brought in. He hadn’t been informed of this, and if Maeve hadn’t told him then it was likely a surprise to her too, which was even more concerning. He hoped he wasn’t too far out of the loop already. Even one day could make a huge difference when it came to dealing with alien life, and they had been in possession of the specimen for two already by now.

They passed through the camp, past a squad doing their afternoon drills, and headed for the main facility which housed the laboratory units. As they entered, Rodrigo patted Silas in farewell before he headed off after Corporal Jones, while the sergeant led Silas on down the opposite hall. There, ahead of them, he spotted a cluster of people and immediately recognized Maeve among them. She was not the tallest but she bore a commanding air that fit her title, and the smart black-blue jacket she wore set her apart from the others. Her short strawberry-blonde hair was combed back neatly from her face, which made her look older than she really was with its perpetually stern expression and the severe glint in her hazel eyes. Silas had missed his sister terribly; even the scowl that she currently wore did little to dampen the surge of emotion he felt at finally seeing her again. 

The man at her side he also knew; Amos Rhodes, fondly nicknamed the Cowboy by everyone who worked with him. No one was quite sure how he’d gone from a simple ranch life in the heart of Texas to working with the higher-ups of the Corps, but he’d been Maeve’s second-in-command for years now. His thick handlebar mustache was peppered with more gray hair than Silas remembered, even in just a year since they’d last spoken, but even the extra wrinkles around his eyes and the thinning hairline that retreated under his cap didn’t offset his strong build and assertive manner.

It was the pair of men that faced them that Silas did not recognize, but they wore scientist’s coats, the green and blue bands of the biology division coming into clearer focus as the sergeant led him over. One of the men was a kind-faced older man, his graying hair once brown, but now faded and thin, flaring around his skull somewhat haphazardly. He spoke with an animated flair, his excitement obvious even before Silas could hear what he was saying. But it was his excitement which made the stark contrast between him and his companion all the more obvious. He looked younger even than Silas, his black hair slicked back against his skull so perfectly it looked like it was sculpted on. He was pale, pallid-looking really, and the blackness of his hair made him look paler still. So did his eyes, which looked just as black and which Silas thought for a terrifying moment were ALL black, sclera and all. But it seemed they were just very dark and set below heavy, hooded lids that gave the young fellow the appearance of being tired and/or bored at all times. Something about him set Silas feeling uneasy, but in the interest of not judging someone based on his appearance alone he tried to shake it off and put on an easy smile as they reached the group, his focus shifting to Maeve primarily.

“Commander MacLaughlin, Dr. MacLaughlin has arrived.” The sergeant saluted, and Maeve’s scowl melted into a rare smile that seemed rather relieved as she turned to address her brother. “Rhodes, you remember my brother Silas. Silas, this is Dr. Koenig and his assistant, Mr. Lao.”

Dr. Keonig turned to Silas, beaming happily as he reached out to shake his hand, surprising him as he used both hands to enthusiastically greet the new arrival. “Dr. MacLaughlin, what a pleasure. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you; we have so much work to do! I think our collaboration is going to really expand humanity’s resources out here.”

“Likewise. I’ve been looking forward to getting started for ages, heh.” Silas smiled, glancing briefly to Mr. Lao, who merely bowed in polite greeting, smiling in a fashion that didn’t entirely reach his eyes but which seemed friendly enough. He tapped on his tablet, clearing his throat as his black gaze darted to the back of Koenig’s head. “Sir, we really ought to get back to the specimen. It’s due for another sedative.”

“Ah, yes--” Dr. Koenig started to speak but Silas couldn’t help but snap to attention at that. “It’s still under sedation? What kind of metabolism are we--”

“Silas.” Maeve interrupted, and while the use of his name was informal the tone of her voice wasn’t, and everyone jumped to attention as she waved them toward the door just past them, which apparently was an elevator to an underground level. Silas’ excitement was not so extreme he couldn’t acknowledge how impressive that was, to have such a quickly established base complete with lower levels, but he was nearly bouncing out of his boots as the four of them shuffled into the tight space. “We don’t know.” Koenig spoke once the elevator whirred to life, clearing his throat awkwardly. “The Commander insisted we wait for your arrival before we performed any extensive testing. But he seems to have quite a resilient system, in any case. It takes a dosage four times the limit of a human to keep him in a semi-conscious state, and even then he’s not entirely down.”

“He? So it’s male?” Silas blinked curiously, trying despite himself to sneak a peek at whatever was on Lao’s tablet, but the screen was always angled just enough that he couldn’t make any observation. Koenig nodded, beaming in excitement. “Yes. Anatomical evaluation is only rudimentary right now, of course, but now that you’re here we can hopefully get some tissue and blood samples that will help us explain...well, everything.”

“What do you m--” Silas started to ask, but then the elevator stopped and the doors opened to a laboratory, but the impressive tech was not what caught his eye first. Instead, on the other side of the machines, a glass wall allowed him to see into the containment chamber where a large figure lay strapped to a table. 

“We have more chambers as well for containment, this is just the main working lab for hands-on as well as hands-off procedures, security in mind.” Maeve started to explain as they filed into the lab, but Silas was only half-listening as he headed straight to the window and stared in at the subject who lay in a medically-induced state of catatonia. It--HE, he corrected himself--was humanoid, not at all what he had expected to see. Deep coppery-tan skin was interrupted with paler splashes on the throat and belly, the creature’s lower half covered by the containment straps along with what looked to be short pants made from tough leather, rather well-crafted. Black splashes colored the creature’s shoulders, hands, feet, and part of its face; the face he could not help but gawk at in particular. It was a terribly fearsome face even in its neutral state, but he wanted to look at it more closely.   
“You didn’t tell me it was a humanoid.” He spoke, and he heard the chatter behind him stop, could feel Maeve glowering at him for the interruption even before he turned to look at her. “I thought it was going to be, well….an animal. Are there others?”

“There are. But we don’t know enough for me to say more on that; rest assured our soldiers have the situation under control.” She waved dismissively. “I will leave the studies to you now, doctors. Dr. Koenig will familiarize you with the equipment, Silas; I will see you when it’s time for dinner.”

“Oh, uh...yes, Commander.” He nodded, a little surprised at the abrupt departure but too excited about the specimen waiting on the other side of the glass to question it. The sooner he got comfortable with the lab, the sooner they could start work. Mr. Lao was already adjusting the sedative doses, ensuring the creature would remain compliant until they were ready to begin examining him, so Silas hurried to put his things aside and get ready to familiarize himself with the workstation. But there was a faint sense of unease that poked at the back of his mind, upsetting the excitement he so eagerly embraced. To have a sapient humanoid on the table was a different ballpark than he’d planned on. He wasn’t really sure what that would mean for their future endeavors to settle this world. 

As Dr. Koenig led him around the lab to explain everything’s purpose and place, Silas was quick to squash that emerging doubt. After all, it was out of his hands; Maeve and her soldiers were in charge of security details. He was here to study, to learn, and that’s just what he planned to do.


	2. --first impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas has a rough start to his duties, and it shakes him up more than just skin-deep.

Silas adjusted his gloves anxiously, despite having just ensured they were properly fitted. And having ensured it before that too, and before that. He and Leon--Dr. Koenig--approached the specimen on the table cautiously, nervous despite the heavy sedation. From the other side of the glass Mr. Lao--he still would not deign to share his first name--observed keenly the screens relaying the alien’s vital signs as well as his current levels of sedation. Through the intercom that connected the two rooms he spoke, his flat voice sounding extra clipped and hollow with the distortion, “Everything looks fine here. The temperature is unchanged, heart rate steady at one-hundred-fifty beats.”

“Slightly elevated from human measurements.” Silas noted. “Have you seen any particular fluctuation?”

“Only when he’s fighting the sedation. But it hasn’t gone higher than two-fifty.” Leon spoke, the first to approach the table fully and leaning in to examine the alien’s skin. Silas meanwhile focused on the face, where the eyes roved slowly back and forth under mostly-closed lids, set deep under the heavy ridged brow that framed a broad crested skull. He reached out to gingerly take hold of one of the long tendrils hanging from the back of the skull, a tangle of dreadlock-like tresses that fanned around the creature’s head as it lay motionless. “Feels rubbery.” He mused, flexing the tendril between his fingers gently and parting them closer to the creature’s scalp to observe where they connected, seemingly socketed in the skin.

“Approximately seven feet in height. Athletic build; not unlike a human’s in most regards.” Leon spoke aloud to ensure his observations were recorded. “Mr. Lao, can we dial up the sedation a bit? I need to remove the shackle from his left wrist.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, sir?” Lao drawled through the intercom. “His brain activity is still elevated, even with the current dosage. I can’t guarantee he won’t have some response triggered.”

Leon waved dismissively, nodding toward the window while Silas gingerly used one of their general instruments to carefully flex one of the sharp-tipped mandibles, observing the way they seemed to be jointed to the skull. He heard the dull click of the shackle release, Leon shuffling around to prepare to draw a blood sample, when suddenly the creature’s eyes flickered. Silas looked up at the movement, catching his breath when he locked his gaze with the alien. Slit pupils narrowed against the light, fixing on his face sharply. The irises were a striking blue, so bright and vivid it was nearly electric, not at all what he’d expected to see. But he didn’t exactly have a chance to admire them, considering the mandibles suddenly flared and the jaws snapped, the metal instrument--thin as it was it WAS still metal--snapped between the creature’s teeth. Silas recoiled, banging into Leon as he did, which kept him from escaping the creature’s reach just long enough to let him raise his newly-freed arm, clawed hand grasping out and catching Silas by the neck.

“Silas!” He heard Leon shout, but it sounded faraway, his focus too caught on the fact he was being pulled in toward those terrifying jaws, the alien snarling as he clearly intended to bite his captor’s face clean off if his claws didn’t crush the man’s windpipe first. Silas scrabbled desperately to try and get loose, before the blaring of an alarm cut the roar of blood rushing in his ears and he saw the creature’s eyes flicker again, then roll back, his grip slackening as a sudden pulse of heavy sedatives overwhelmed even his resilient system.

Silas collapsed to the floor as soon as the deadly claws let him go, coughing to catch his breath and feeling around his neck. There were bloody gouges in the thin skin there, and he hated to think of how nearly those talons could’ve pierced his jugular, but then Leon was hauling him to his feet, the sharp clang of the alarm and the clacking of reinforced restraints being deployed echoing around them. “Come, come, let’s get you cleaned up. Oh my goodness, what a mess. Let’s get you to the medbay; Mr. Lao can secure the creature. Oh, dear.” He fretted and fussed, clearly just as rattled as Silas, but where his nerves vented through his words Silas could only nod along numbly, his throat closed up as well as if it HAD been crushed. Even as the bright laboratory lights gave way to the dimmer lighting of the elevator he just stood half-supported by Leon, despite being a fair bit taller than him. Those fierce eyes were burned into his mind, as clearly as if he were still looking into them.

It only took a couple stitches--and that was mostly due to an outraged Maeve insisting on it while Silas sat mutely in the medical ward, his bruised throat being soothed by an ice pack. She was furious when she found out what had happened, the alarm having alerted her to a situation. Silas was dimly aware of her and Leon arguing; Maeve wanted to kill the alien, to run tests on a cadaver instead of a living, dangerous monster, in her words. Leon was staunchly opposed to that, insisting that a living creature was worth far more.

“Silas.” Maeve’s voice jolted him to reality, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers as she placed a hand on his shoulder, avoiding the bloodstained fabric around his neck. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” He croaked, shaking himself briefly before he looked up at her. By the way her mouth tightened as they regarded each other, he knew his eyes were probably still horribly bloodshot. While his throat had only briefly been grasped, it had been a very strong grip indeed. “Sorry, I….wasn’t listening.”

She nodded curtly. “Dr. Koenig here insists we ask your input on what to do from here. As you were the...target, of the specimen’s aggression.” She exhaled sharply, then straightened, folding her arms across her chest. He could tell she didn’t like asking. She was the Commander, after all; this was her operation to run. Anyone else wouldn’t get a choice in the matter, but he was her brother, and she had to cave at least somewhat to this. But looking at the stern set of her brow, the hard glint in her eyes, he knew she wanted him to take her side, to agree with her methods. And for once...he found he didn’t. He COULDN’T.

“No...nothing.” He shook his head, clearing his throat raspily. “I don’t want anything to happen to it--him.” He corrected himself quickly, steeling his nerve against the sharpening glare that she fixed on him. “He’s angry, but he’s...afraid. I could see it.” He lowered his gaze, unable to meet hers while the bright glare of the alien surged in his memory again, as clearly as if he were still face-to-face with him. “He’s a person, Maeve. It’s...a mistake to have him here in the first place. We shouldn’t be antagonizing this species before we even know anything about--”

“IT attacked US first. The creature’s kin should be grateful we’ve let it stay alive this long.” Maeve interrupted him with an angry scoff. “If you wish to let it live, then fine. But I will be insisting on doubled security measures. No more hands-on contact; make it work.” The last words were spoken more to Leon, the man shrinking back a bit from the threat of her wrath. With that said, Maeve briskly turned on her heel and left the room, Amos rising from his seat by the door to follow her dutifully. As the door hissed shut after them, Leon let out a shaky breath, turning to Silas again. “....Is she always that intense?”

“She didn’t make Commander that quick for nothing.” Silas smirked faintly, rubbing at his bandages again absently. “You didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?”

“No, you knocked me out of the way.” Leon offered him a halfhearted smile. “...I’m glad you didn’t ask for the creature to be killed. He’s such a valuable resource, I think we just need--”

Silas felt his mind drift again, a sour taste on his tongue. Leon didn’t see what he had seen. To him the alien was a resource still. But to Silas...something had changed, and he was quite ashamed it had taken something like this to trigger it. He should’ve felt it from the start that this was a bad idea. But now he could only see those eyes blazing with rage and terror. Maeve said that he had attacked them first, but Silas remembered the briefing document that stated the capture had been made after the creature tripped a motion sensor, seemingly by mistake. He had been taken with no equipment, no apparent weapons. So what threat had he really posed, against a whole outpost of soldiers armed to the teeth and certainly jumpy?

He didn’t really register when Leon left, the conversation mostly one-sided. Leon didn’t seem to mind, chalking up Silas’ quiet and distracted manner as being lingering shock. Maybe there was some truth in that, but when he finally got up and pulled his bloodied shirt off to finally replace it with a clean one waiting on the bedside table he felt quite fine, if a bit sore around the neck. The medics nodded to him when he went to check in before leaving, dismissing him easily enough, and he found himself glad that he was alone for the moment to finally take in his surroundings better. Outside the hospital facility he blinked against the sunlight, looking around. There were still soldiers doing drills, a new batch having cycled in while others were off doing their duties elsewhere. Soldiers patrolling the walls of the outpost, the faint hum of generators making his hair stand up as he walked past the central command center. From the landing dock that stood over the far end of the compound, a supply shuttle was coming in to drop off cargo from the Pilgrim, the station orbiting somewhere far above the atmosphere. He was suddenly struck by a wave of anxiety, and he turned to jog toward the nearest walkway leading up to the top of the wall. He needed to see more than just the cold metal structures and the empty sky above, ignoring the curious shout of a soldier as he stumbled past them. He was basically a civilian here, after all; he had no business up on these walls. 

The barren land between the compound and the forest stretched what felt like a mile ahead of him, though he knew it was only a few hundred meters. He stared at the dark treeline, the looming canopy shadowing everything beneath. He wondered if the alien’s kin were out there now, watching the compound from a distance, planning to go to war against the invading humans. He felt a pang of dismay at the thought, not for his own people; they had the firepower to take down an enemy nation, but for the aliens still hiding in the trees. A fight would just result in a massacre.

“Doctor?” A soldier’s voice startled him, and he turned to find Corporal Jones from earlier staring up at him from the stairway quizzically. “What are you doing up here? It’s not safe.”

“I was...just taking a look at the scenery.” He absentmindedly tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to conceal the bandage on his neck as he stepped past the soldier and headed down again. There was no use in agonizing over this, he rationalized. Pointless to want to find a way to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. Maeve would not sanction the release of the alien, not now at least, and he had little hope of establishing connection with an unfamiliar species. He was a biologist, not a diplomat.

But then again, the little adventurous streak buried in his brain piped up, humans were no stranger to reaching out to isolated groups even back on Earth, with no language or familiarity to bridge the gap to begin with. If these aliens were not outright hostile--and they had not made efforts to fight for their captured kin, as far as he could tell, so that was a good chance--perhaps there was still hope that he could find a way to communicate with them.

The dinner announcements crackled over the compound speaker system, and he sighed as he shook off his idealistic notions. Maeve had warned him before he’d shipped off on the Pilgrim not to let his head run away on him. He was getting way ahead of himself. He hadn’t even spent a full day here yet and he was already feeling like being a hero or something. He shook his head, wincing as his stitches twinged a bit, before heading off to the mess hall in order to get some food. He needed to catch up with Rodrigo anyway, and regale him with his frightful experience. The geologist would no doubt be glad of his business revolving around handling rocks and minerals, by comparison.


	3. --sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things just don't add up.

“Que lástima, Silas, you’re already a mess and we haven’t even had our bunks assigned.” Rodrigo slapped Silas on the shoulder, then grimaced apologetically when the other man flinched. “Sorry. Does it hurt much still?”

“No, it’s fine. It looks worse than it really is.” He smiled reassuringly, though the stitches in his neck did twinge painfully as he looked back down at the plate of food in front of him. Rations here left a bit to be desired compared to the fare aboard the Pilgrim, the uniformly brownish-yellow slop a highly nutritious blend that hardly tasted like anything. It was healthy and not much else, as Rodrigo was fond of saying. But while the geologist hungrily devoured his food-paste, Silas could only muster the willpower to take a few bites, just enough to make sure he was ‘nourished’. When they left the mess hall, the sky had turned a deep turquoise that darkened to a rich purple on the horizons, except for where the sunlight hid behind the treeline, painting the wisps of clouds there a vivid orange and yellow. The air was hotter now somehow, the humidity of the jungle inescapable even with how much of the forest they had cleared around them.

“Almost looks like a sunset from back home, eh? Too many moons though.” Rodrigo shrugged as he stepped past Silas, headed for the barrack block that was reserved for the science officers. Their things had already been taken there by now, and Silas had to admit that the thrill of the day had left him quite tired, if still a bit wary. Soldiers were trading off on patrol duties, the night shift starting, but for them it was time to get some well-deserved sleep. 

Behind a curtain that sectioned off one bunk area, Silas could hear snoring that he knew could only belong to Leon. The next section was clearly assigned to Mr. Lao, the bed neatly made and his identical dark outfits hung in crisp rows on the provided rack. But there was no sign of the man, who Silas realized was probably still down in the lab monitoring the alien. Rodrigo headed for the furthest bunk, muttering under his breath in Spanish as he set about organizing his things from where they’d been haphazardly dumped. Silas was grateful then that he didn’t have much, opening up his lone duffel and picking out a clean set of clothes for the next day.

“There we go.” Rodrigo muttered, the flag of his home country of Colombia stretched across the open end of his bunk. “Slice of home, eh?” He shrugged off his shirt and boots, stretching out on the cot that creaked a little under his weight. He was taller than Silas, and broader too; his life in the geology field having been a rather adventurous one that involved lots of long hikes and treacherous climbing of sheer cliffs in search of valuable minerals, leaving him tough and muscular by comparison to many of their colleagues over the years.

Silas was a little shy of his own lacking physique, built lean and with the strength of a regular runner than a regular outdoorsman. He leaned over to inspect his neck in the reflection on the metal railing at the head of his bunk, before sighing and laying down as well, his gaze fixed on the ceiling where a small skylight positioned above gave him a view of solid turquoise overhead.

“You alright, Silas? I mean, jokes aside, you DID have a hell of a first day.” Rodrigo grunted quietly.

“I’m fine, I just….I dunno. I keep thinking about him. The alien. I feel...bad.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

Rodrigo’s bed creaked again as he shifted a bit, turning so he could look at Silas better. “Yo sé lo que quieres decir. I understand. You’ve always been a softie, eh?”

“It’s not the same as when I had to do work on animals back on Earth. It’s...I mean, he’s a PERSON, Rodrigo. A prisoner. What are we doing, taking a prisoner on this planet we know nothing about? From a species we know nothing about?”

Rodrigo shrugged, frowning slightly. “This is the Corps we’re talking about, amigo. When have they ever given us the full picture of anything? You remember that mess back in Argentina?”

“I almost forgot about it, thanks.” Silas grumbled dryly.

“Ese es el punto aquí. And that was back on Earth. You think we’re really getting the full picture here, half the maldito universe away?” He scoffed with a hint of dry amusement. “I guarantee you they’ve been watchin’ this place a hell of a lot longer than they let any of us poor tontos know.”

Silas frowned tightly. He wanted to argue out of reflex, to deny that. Maeve would have told HIM, at least. Even if he was sworn to secrecy, she always let him in on little snippets of things. It was the one measure of leniency she had always afforded him over others in the ranks. But...he couldn’t find a convincing reason to think that was the case here. There were too many corners being cut otherwise, too many unanswered questions and explanations never given.

“Hermanito?” Rodrigo spoke up. “I gotta get some sleep. You should too, eh? Don’t let it keep you up all night or you’re likely to get your head ripped off for real.”

“Yeah. Good night, Rod.” Silas sighed, pulling the curtain around his little bunkspace closed. While there was a great deal of space above it to the ceiling he still felt rather closed-in, like there was suddenly nothing beyond that curtain but the skylight above that showed him a growing radiant of purple-black into the turquoise ocean of the sky.

Rodrigo was snoring within minutes of his own curtain sliding shut, Silas left to stare at the ceiling as he listened to his colleagues. The barrack block was too big for so few of them; he wondered briefly when others might arrive, or if they would at all. He tried to close his eyes, but the fierce, electric-blue glare of the alien was still waiting just behind his closed lids and it was hard to meet their gaze even in his imagination. “Fuck.” He sighed faintly, draping an arm over his face and exhaling steadily in an effort to relax himself regardless. Sleep would not come easily, he was already at peace with that. But it only meant his mind would continue to race otherwise, twisting itself in knots over these questions he didn’t have answers for. Perhaps tomorrow he would find a chance to talk with Maeve seriously, privately. Surely she would give him some reassurance. 

Right?


	4. --infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas can't get a full night's sleep without something else happening. At least this time it seems...friendly?

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Silas’ brow furrowed as he rolled over in his sleep, trying to ignore the sound. He was trying to hang onto the dream he’d finally slipped into, a lovely little foray into a half-forgotten memory. He was seven, hanging onto a ten-year-old Maeve’s hand as they faced the ocean and stood, feet buried in the cold sand as they waited for the water to come rushing in with the wind snatching at their thin coats, stinging their faces. Maeve’s eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed as she smiled down at him, her mouth moving soundlessly to count down to them needing to run from the icy rush. 

Taptaptaptap. Maeve’s hand was slipping from his grasp as the beach faded from view. Silas groaned as it faded entirely, lifting a hand to rub his face as he opened his eyes a crack. It was dark still, the barrack quiet save for the steady snoring of Rodrigo and Leon, and he could see a brilliant spray of stars through the skylight above...at least until the tapping sounded again and he sat up, focusing on the brief but unmistakable flicker of movement that crossed that little viewport. Something was skittering across the barrack block roof, the source of the tapping coming from nails--claws?--that pattered away toward the other end.

“Rodrigo?” Silas hissed faintly, but the snoring from the next bunk over did not even hitch. He held his breath a moment, listening as the faint scratching continued. No alarms had been tripped, no soldiers scrambling outside. But something had entered the compound. He sat there in the dark for a few more moments, trying to convince himself to simply roll over and go back to sleep. If it was a threat, it would surely be dealt with. But even if it wasn’t, it was still….well, SOMETHING. And wasn’t his job to catalogue the organisms on this world? He sighed, swinging his legs over the edge of his bunk and pulling on his boots hurriedly, glad he hadn’t wasted time getting undressed for bed.

He crept past the other bunks, Mr. Lao’s enclosed fully by the curtains now, the only indication he’d finally come in from whatever he’d been busy with. The barrack door slid open easily enough, Silas slipping through quickly before the warm breeze could sweep inside and disturb his colleagues. Then he turned to look around at the darkened compound, only lit by the perimeter lights posted along the walls and the lamps that studded the barrack block entryways. He could see soldiers on the walls, their watchful eyes looking out for anything approaching, but it was what they HADN’T seen that Silas was now looking for. And there in the dirt he could just barely see them; strange prints that padded along the soft dirt toward the main facility. He shifted his weight, chewing his lip briefly. He wasn’t entirely sure of the protocols; was he allowed to wander around after-hours? In any case, there was clearly an animal within the perimeter, and he felt it was his responsibility to look into the matter. Better than letting the trigger-happy soldiers just shoot it into oblivion before they even had a chance to study it.

The footprints were larger than his handprint, but clearly an animals’ judging by the gait. Four feet in a slinky, reptile-like pattern, the tiny indentation of clawtips at the end of each of the four toes. He followed the prints quickly, but quietly, not wanting to draw attention if he could help it. He didn’t have a good excuse for being out here in the middle of the night, and somehow he doubted that anyone would believe him if he said he’d gotten lost on the way to the bathroom.

As he stepped around the corner to look at the front of the main building he gasped when he suddenly spotted his target. It was small, but large for what it apparently was; a shockingly ‘normal’ looking lizard in most ways. It was scooting along the front edge of the building, sniffing at the well-sealed doorway. Even in the gloomy light of the overhead lamp Silas could see a pearlescent sheen to its smooth, scaly skin, gleaming off the tendril-like appendages that grew down its back to the base of its tail. He caught his breath as the creature lifted its head, forked tongue flickering out like any Earth lizard’s, before it suddenly turned to look at him. Its dilated pupils were luminous in the lamplight, and he shrank back in reflex as he realized there was something attached to its neck, half-hidden from his original angle by its mane of strange dreadlocks. Now that it faced him he could see it was a collar of some sort, like a radio collar, but he knew for sure they hadn’t tagged any creatures on this world yet. So where was that from? He tried to steady himself and clear his thoughts before peering out around the corner again, only to see the lit spot in front of the door empty.

A soft chirp made him nearly jump out of his skin, the lizard having scuttled swiftly right up to him, peering up and blinking placidly. In any other situation he might’ve found this an adorable scenario, but now the scientist in him was taking over and he knew there was some serious risk. This was an alien, no matter how familiar it seemed in some ways, and he had no idea if its behavior was truly harmless curiosity or just aggression displayed in a manner he didn’t know how to recognize. He stepped back quickly, but not too quickly, glancing around for a moment as he wondered whether he SHOULD call for help--but the lizard followed him, chirping again.

“Shh.” He hissed quietly, surprising himself a bit with the almost casual response. But the chirp had reminded him of his old cat, a sound that he felt was universal in some sense. The lizard hopped back slightly, perhaps surprised by the counter-noise, but then it was back again, sniffing and flicking its tongue curiously as it inspected him. Silas bit his lip, trying not to….laugh? Panic? He wasn’t really sure, suddenly. While his first experience of hands-on contact with native life from this world had been rather unpleasant, he found that old giddiness rising in him again as he slowly lowered himself to regard the lizard better. “Shh, don’t want to blow your cover, do you?” He murmured, hoping the calm tone of his voice would keep the lizard friendly. Whether it mattered or not he couldn’t say, but the goal was achieved anyway; the lizard scooted closer to sniff him more directly. It had four nostrils, though with the addition of the forked tongue he wondered if they were more akin to the sensory pits on Earth reptiles rather than true nostrils. Then again, maybe the tongue was picking up different input than an Earth lizard’s would. He held a hand up, letting the creature inspect him while he tilted his head to look closer at the collar around its neck. It looked like it was made with the same dark leather that formed the clothes of the alien in the lab, and he wondered for a moment if perhaps this was the humanoid’s pet, come looking for its master in this strange, intrusive place stuck in the middle of their jungle. Carefully he reached out, cautious about touching the lizard in case it reacted poorly to being handled on someone else’s terms, but it only warbled quietly as he lightly brushed his fingertips over the smooth scales on its shoulder, working his way up to the neck.

Then it turned his head and he felt his blood run cold when he realized that attached to the other side of the collar, previously half-hidden by the tendrils that flowed back from its skull, there was a small device that looked uncomfortably like a camera of some sort, a small lens framed by thin red lights that weren’t bright enough to give away their presence without being close enough to actually touch them. He gasped, staring at that lens for what felt like an eternity, before suddenly he heard a shout and the ratcheting noise of a gun being cocked. “Hey, watch out!”

The lizard screeched, leaping away into the dark with the soldier’s flashlight tracking it hurriedly, and Silas scrambled to his feet and waved his arms as he rushed to the soldier, his voice tense as he tried to calm him before the alarm could really be triggered. “Stop, stop! Hold your fire, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hey, careful!” The soldier hastily lowered his gun, and Silas risked a glance over his shoulder. In the faint light he could just catch a glimpse of the iridescent scales of the lizard as it slithered over the perimeter wall, apparently equipped with the grip to climb the otherwise rather unforgiving surface. “What were you doing, you could’ve been killed!”

Silas scoffed, shaking his head. “It wasn’t aggressive, it was just...exploring. Surely all these security measures are meant to catch bigger problems than one little lizard?” He forced a laugh, hoping that the soldier had not noticed the collar. Thankfully it seemed the young man was more concerned with the close encounter as a whole, obviously rattled even by the brief meeting. Silas glanced around, the soldier’s yelp of alarm thankfully having gone unnoticed thanks to their distance from the border and his own leaping to stop the overreaction. “I’m lead biologist, trust me. Endemic life like that is….inevitable. No different than a bird, or...whatever they have here landing on a roof.” He smiled stiffly, hoping the reassurance would be enough for the soldier, who looked like he was barely out of boot camp; it was a wonder that he’d been assigned to this post of all things, being so fresh.

For a moment the young soldier seemed doubtful, still glancing around anxiously, before he nodded and straightened up to face Silas better. “Y-yes, sir. Sorry, just...not what I expected to see on my way back from the toilet, heh.”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry, I’m quite confident that the creature doesn’t pose us any harm.” Silas spoke confidently, but only because he was omitting the whole matter of whether that creature in question was reporting back to anyone, or anything. “You just...head back to your post. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure it’s recorded.” At least that wasn’t a lie; it was definitely something he had to mention. 

“Yes, sir. Er, thank you, sir.” The soldier nodded, turning to trudge away back toward the outpost wall while Silas waved him off, before he nearly collapsed against the building, letting out a heavy breath. He had to report the encounter, naturally, but what exactly could he say? To mention the creature’s collar and apparent observational attachment would mean potentially amping up an already-tense atmosphere. But he couldn’t just NOT say anything, either, in case there was a real danger. He rubbed his hands over his face, the light grit of stubble on his cheeks and chin already starting to poke through. It was still the middle of the night, he reasoned. He had barely gotten any sleep as it was and even with the lamps it was dark out there. There was no question of there being a collar on the critter’s neck, but as for what was attached, he was letting himself jump to conclusions that he felt might only add to the problems here rather than solve them.

This was a problem to solve in the morning, he told himself. If anything else were to happen, the patrols would handle it. One little lizard was not worth potentially triggering an emergency response when there was no evidence of danger being present. But as he quietly slipped back into his barrack block he was quick to pull a sketchpad from his duffel under his bunk, using the tiny lamp at the head of his bed in order to help him whip up a rough sketch of the creature. Tomorrow he would approach Leon with the news first; he felt he might appreciate it more than the rather more militantly-minded folks running things, which very much included Maeve. Then they could decide how to handle the official report together.

With the sketch tucked back into his duffel, the light switched back off, Silas slumped against his pillow again and exhaled heavily. At this rate he felt it was rather likely he’d end up having a heart attack or dying of shock from something, given how much had already happened in such a short time. He closed his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep. He was eager for the morning, but he needed the rest if he wanted to get anywhere. He tried to recall the beach he’d been dreaming of before, to sink back into that peaceful memory and the comfort it gave him. But it was elusive, the effort of chasing the imagery enough to tire him out even without the welcoming dreamscape, and he finally found sleep again.


	5. --breaking point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas has cabin fever, and with little choice left, sneaks out.

Two days after the incident in the lab, Silas was starting to lose his patience. Maeve was not only barring him from returning, but she was proving incredibly elusive, avoiding him or conveniently finding Commander duties to busy herself with whenever Silas tried to get a moment to argue with her. And he knew her well enough to know it was intentional. She did not want to debate; she wanted her order to be final. And he hated it.

Mr. Lao was equally uncooperative, citing that “if the Commander doesn’t want you involved again yet, I feel I am not at liberty to disclose our current progress”. Silas wanted to strangle him when he first heard that clinical response, an impulse which he found quite shocking, honestly. As rattled as the assault had made him, he was somehow MORE upset now that he couldn’t go back in there and face the creature again.

Perhaps that was because Leon was much more willing to share snippets with Silas when he could, which wasn’t often given how little free time they had that didn’t have Lao lingering ominously nearby, ready to report their insubordination. The things Leon had managed to share were not promising, though. They were very limited in what they could do, since Maeve had barred hands-on contact. The alien wasn’t responding well to the sedatives anymore, either. It wasn’t that they were becoming less effective, it was actually more the opposite.

“His blood pressure dropped so fast last night, I wasn’t sure we’d be able to correct it.” Leon muttered, his fingers shaking slightly as he brought a cigarette to his lips. The latest supply drop from the Pilgrim in orbit had brought a few ‘luxury’ items like the little nicotine sticks, and Leon had clearly been aching for one. Silas nodded, his arms folded as he stood close by--not too close, to avoid the smoke and to look less conspiratorial. “He won’t eat, either. And when we last tried to set up an intravenous drip his heart rate spiked and went all crazy for a while. I feel like--” Leon paused, glancing around to ensure they weren’t being eavesdropped on. For the moment it seemed Lao was busy elsewhere, and the passing soldiers were not concerned by the pair of scientists simply enjoying the warm sunlight.

“We can’t keep him captive.” Silas sighed harshly, interrupting. “He’s going to die.”

“Maybe he’d die anyway. I mean, we’ve had him a few days now, and no sign of people coming for him...maybe he was stranded here or something.” Leon shrugged, but Silas could tell the notion of the alien dying on their hands didn’t sit well with him, even if he didn’t really seem to see the alien the way Silas did. While Silas had become nearly consumed with the magnitude of their contact, Leon still saw the value of research and the commodity of the specimen beyond the ethical implications of it. “We still don’t have all the bells and whistles set up, anyway. According to our contacts on the Pilgrim, our next shipment of lab equipment got delayed.”

Silas shook his head, scowling at that. “We can’t hold him that long without something changing. If we could go out in the field, maybe we could find some sort of food source.”

“Field expeditions still aren’t cleared yet.” Leon remarked. “Not til the drones finish their scans, and….well, they’re taking their sweet time. Priority is--”

“Priority is on getting the outpost fully operational and fortified.” Silas repeated the line automatically, the words bitter on his tongue. That seemed to be the nail in the coffin of every debate he tried to open with Mr. Lao or Maeve or the guards who stood outside the lab doors to ensure he didn’t try sneaking in. Maeve knew his tricks, even with their childhood so far behind. He lifted his eyes to the perimeter wall, his gaze tracking along it from post to post, turret to turret. They certainly seemed fortified enough, even if the little wyrm had been able to sneak in the other night. It hadn’t returned since that night, though Silas had stayed awake late in hopes it might. He wondered if that soldier had scared it too much. He sort of wondered if it had all been a very detailed dream. But the sketches in his notepad were too detailed, even from such a brief, nighttime encounter, for him to really believe that.

Leon coughed, stamping out his cigarette on the concrete slab they stood on, a building pad for a future facility; probably another barrack block given the size of it. “I better get back. I’ll...keep trying to figure out a solution. And if I see the Commander I’ll be sure to put in a word for you.” He reached over, patting Silas on the arm reassuringly. He nodded, smiling briefly as the other man left, before he shoved his hands in his pockets, sighing a heavy exasperated breath into the humid air above before he trudged off to walk the perimeter for what felt like the hundredth time in just two short days. It was the only thing he felt like he was allowed to do, being a science officer on a military base where he wasn’t even allowed to work on science. But at least the novelty of being on an alien world hadn’t worn off yet, and he could find some enjoyment in watching the sky, observing the brief glimpses of strange bird-like creatures that darted by--never very close; they seemed to know better than to test the jumpy trigger fingers of the soldiers guarding the compound. 

The perimeter wall had one large main gate that would eventually be used for vehicles going on field expeditions, once they were given clearance for those operations. But there were smaller ports along the perimeter as well for smaller operations, and they were equipped with viewports that let him admire the treeline from a distance. Not that he could see much; the clearcut area around the compound was too wide to let him glimpse anything notable, and as far as he had seen no native creatures would tread near enough to glimpse either. 

“What’s the fucking point of being here if we’re not even going to do proper research?” He muttered aloud to himself as he stepped into the shade of one of the utility sheds, rubbing a hand over his brow. While the sun was bright, the heat was a very humid kind of heat, the atmosphere heavy with moisture and the increased oxygen levels. As he leaned on the cool metal wall, he let his gaze drift to the nearest port, squinting through the window at the hazy jungle in the distance. He glanced higher, watching a patrolling soldier pass by along the rampart, and then down again. As the soldier headed off a safe distance though, Silas suddenly saw a flicker of movement over the window, like he had the other night when the lizard, the wyrm as Leon had dubbed it, had gone slithering over his skylight. And then suddenly there it was, perched atop the wall with the sun glimmering off its sleek scales. 

“Shit.” Silas muttered, looking around hastily--not for help, but to ensure no one was looking as the lizard came clambering down, grippy pads on its toes allowing it to scale even the metal barricade. It chirped at him--really AT him--and scuttled over to the shady spot where he stood, forked tongue flicking. Silas crouched to greet the creature, smiling incredulously despite himself. “Good timing, I was starting to wonder if you were real at all.” He extended a hand, the wyrm bumping its smooth snout against his fingertips before it scurried in a tight circle and hissed, darting back toward the wall. 

“Wait!” Silas hissed quietly, not wanting to draw attention and painfully aware there would be another soldier patrolling the wall soon; it was lucky enough they were back here by the utility huts where no one tended to hang around, on ground level. But the wall was always manned. He hurried after the wyrm as it circled again, his brow furrowing as he followed its movement. It wasn’t really logical to believe that it was trying to get him to follow, but….it sure seemed like it was trying to get him to follow. But that would mean leaving the compound, something that even military teams weren’t cleared to do yet. He didn’t even have a weapon; he had nothing but his usual rucksack on him really, and his communicator. But he couldn’t bring himself to use that. The wyrm would only be caught and held prisoner like the dying alien underground.

The wyrm hissed at him, and he looked it over slowly, trying to reason with himself. He couldn’t leave. That would basically be grounds for an arrest, no matter if his sister was the Commander. In fact that might make it even worse. But the wyrm was staring at him so intently, and the metallic collar around its neck confirmed that SOMEONE was attached to it. And if it were that alien in the lab, perhaps this wyrm could help him figure out some way to help it, perhaps give him a clue as to what kind of food would really sustain the creature. He chewed his lip as the wyrm scurried over to wind itself between his legs like a scaly oversized cat. It wasn’t a logical or perhaps even reasonable notion, but he couldn’t stomach another day of sitting here uselessly. “Shh.” He muttered as the lizard squeaked, and thankfully it seemed to understand the need for caution, following him into the shelter of the wall and settling between him and the metal wall to conceal itself while he approached the port. He waited a moment to ensure there was time--another patrolling soldier passed overhead without noticing them, and he turned his attention to the datapad that would allow them out. He was a lead science officer; his badge should work and if it didn’t he wasn’t sure what they’d--

Beep. The faint chime of the mechanical lock being deactivated was music to his ears. The lizard chirped, squirming through the door before it was open enough to Silas to follow suit. “Wait, wait.” He whispered tersely, making sure the door shut securely behind him again before he turned to face the open space in front of him.

Suddenly the distant forest looked so much further away. It was only a hundred yards or so, from this side, but it looked like a mile. The wyrm scuttled ahead, darting behind one of the left-behind stumps from the clear-cut and peeking out at him briefly, waiting for him to follow. “Just..give me a second.” He held up a hand placatingly, looking back toward the rampart again. “I’m going crazy, talking to a lizard. An alien lizard, no less.” He waited, much to the hissing and chittering lizard’s chagrin, until the next patrol walked by. It was only five minutes and he knew the run wouldn’t take more than twenty seconds at most, even with the uneven terrain, but he didn’t dare press his luck.

Of course, if he really cared about doing things right he wouldn’t be out here in the first place. And definitely not without a weapon. But protocol be damned--he was a science officer and he would not be contained and locked down to civilian status. As soon as the soldier was gone, the lizard popping its head up from behind the stump, Silas adjusted his rucksack and broke into a run after it, letting the creature lead the way toward the jungle. His lungs were burning and his back was soaked with sweat by the time they reached it; the hot air was heavy and difficult to breathe still, but the increased oxygen levels seemed to help, and within a few moments of reaching the shadowy treeline and stopping for breath he felt more invigorated. 

Aside from the heat, at least. It was hot out in the open, but even just within the trees the humidity was almost overwhelming, his clothes sticking to him and his hair plastered with sweat to his skull. He found it all worth it though, because the jungle itself was beautiful to look at, the trees massive and stretching tall, with thick, strong vines that coiled around them and bridged gaps between the largest of the trunks, which were so big they would put the last few massive redwoods on Earth to shame. You could drive a whole terraforming machine through some of them, he figured, but that thought made him sad. He wondered how many of the stumps out in the clear-cut were from trees this large. How many more would be felled when Maeve was ordered--or decided--to push their incursion further? “At least there don’t seem to be mosquitoes here.” He muttered dryly, no longer particularly caring about whether talking to some strange alien lizard made him crazy or not. The wyrm, for its part, continued to trot along in front of him, occasionally glancing back as if to be sure he was keeping up. Silas couldn’t help but smile at it, at the whole situation really. Here he was, following an alien lizard into an alien jungle to find….well, he wasn’t sure. That was up to the aforementioned alien lizard.

“You better not be leading me to some queen lizard-thing or something. If all this is a precursor to me being a snack to some giant alien monster I’m gonna--” His boot snagged on a root and he stumbled, hissing as he knocked his knee painfully into a rock on the ground. “Fuck!” He cursed, getting back to his feet and brushing himself off. He’d have a bruise, probably, but his pants weren’t torn, no sign of a cut happening. That was good, but his relief faded quickly when he looked up and realized his guide was gone.

“Oh, shit. Hey, where’d you go?” He called out, wary of making his voice too loud. The jungle was filled with strange ambient noise, but he still didn’t think announcing his presence was a good idea. He’d only seen small creatures like the four-winged birds and the shimmery wyrm, but a jungle this huge and dense surely had bigger beasts lurking in the shadows. “Lizard? Lizzy? Fuck, how do I call something with no name?” He grumbled, looking around. It was only now that he really balked at the prospect of venturing further. He knew he should just turn around and go back, maybe grab some samples along the way and hope he had a chance to analyze them before anyone asked him any incriminating questions. “Fucking stupid, following a lizard into a jungle. Even on Earth that’d be stupid. I must be a real--”

A deep bellow silenced him, the sound vibrating in the air and filling the space between the trees. Silas flinched, covering his ears. The sound was so loud he feared whatever made it was right on top of him, but a quick glance around showed he was still alone--for now.

A heavy thump startled him, another that followed it indicating a huge footfall. He scrambled toward the closest tree, hissing a stream of expletives under his breath as he squeezed himself between two arching roots, a small space just barely big enough to fit in. But it was good enough, Silas catching his breath and holding it as the steady thudding got closer. The whole tree shook around him as it finally reached where he hid, a massive, three-clawed foot slamming into the dirt just outside his hiding spot, mere feet from his face. Silas clamped a hand over his mouth to silence his breathing as he looked up, unable to resist craning his neck slightly to see the beast. It was huge, at least thirty feet tall to the shoulders, a massive beast that resembled a tyrannosaur save for the long tusks that jutted from its lower jaw, deadly sharp spears of bone that curved forward under the huge, tooth-lined jaw. Running down its back were a series of spikes, longer over the back of its neck and shoulders and running shorter all the way down the length of its tail, the end of which was fully spiky, covered in a cluster of spines that flared as it arched itself, unleashing another roar that shook the jungle. Silas winced, his hands forced to cover his ears again. If that beast had been lurking in these woods, he wondered how it had gone unnoticed from the compound. Unless the dense jungle was just that effective at concealing it. Or, more worryingly, perhaps it had come from somewhere else, having just reached this region. A beast this large would easily overtake the compound walls, as they were just twenty-five in height. If the turrets couldn’t bring it down first.

The beast finished its terrible roaring, shaking itself before it paced onward, heavy footsteps thudding away. Given the creature’s bulk it took several moments for Silas to feel safe enough to uncoil from his hiding spot, looking around. The deep footprints it had left were headed in the direction he needed to go, he realized with a sinking feeling, and the daylight wouldn’t hold out forever. He could already tell the sunlight was faltering over the canopy as it crossed the sky.

A soft chirp brought his attention back down, the shimmery little wyrm having returned. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at seeing it, kneeling into the soft dirt and extending his hand, the lizard brushing his fingertips with its flickering tongue. “Well, at least you didn’t totally abandon me. Did that thing scare you off?” It simply blinked at him in response. “...Yeah, fair enough. Well, I can’t go back that way, in any case. Lead on, little lizard.” He waved vaguely and the creature chirped again, turning to resume its winding trek through the jungle with him close behind.


	6. --lost in the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas gets lost, naturally. But then he gets found. And it's a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LORDY two chapters in two days, that's productivity.
> 
> i'm excited now because this is where things really get movinggggg

Silas opened his eyes, the room around him coming into focus slowly. He was lying on the floor, on a small child’s mattress his gangly frame had outgrown with his last growth spurt. Across from him in the single-room apartment he could see Maeve sleeping still, the morning sunlight not having yet reached her through the broken blinds of the window above. He rolled over, pulling his blanket up to shield his eyes and curling more around the warm ball of fur that nestled against his stomach, Peaches’ loud purring greeting him when he gently scratched her between the ears. Outside the sounds of cars humming past was already getting loud as the city woke up, and in the kitchen past the wall Maeve’s bed was shoved up against he could hear his mother rattling around, their old coffee maker sputtering as she put it to work.

Peaches rubbed against Silas’ chest, moving from her spot against his stomach to come up and sniff his face, her whiskers tickling him. He raised a hand to pet her again, rubbing along the arch of her spine as she purred and flicked her forked tongue out against his nose--wait.

Silas gasped as he jolted awake, the wyrm hissing in surprise as it scuttled backwards to give him space. “Ah, fuck.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. That’s right; he was still here, having tucked himself into the shelter of another lattice of thick roots to try and get some rest. He lifted his wrist to look at his communicator, the signal light still flickering just faintly. The jungle was what choked their tech, after all. The whole planet made it a task of maintaining long-range communication, but he of course hadn’t thought of that when he took off on this harebrained venture. At least his compass still worked, but it didn’t do him any good if it wasn’t safe to go anywhere.

As if on cue something howled from neary and even the wyrm chittered softly, curling up in Silas’ lap before he had a moment to process it. He blinked down at the little creature, the lizard’s small claws--retractable claws, he had noted--gripping against the fabric of his pants as it perched across his legs. “Easy there. We’re...we’re okay down here, I think.” He mumbled, trying to convince himself with the words. He gently petted the wyrm, running his fingers along the long, rubbery tresses that grew along its back. “...You kind of look like a ‘Peaches’.” He mused dryly, the wyrm’s pearlescent hide faintly pinkish and orangeish hued in the daylight. Right now of course it just looked pale and glistening under the faint bioluminescence of the tree over them. 

That was perhaps one of the most striking things of all. Not visible from the compound, at least not from where he’d been able to take limited glimpses, the forest teemed with color and light even at night. It wasn’t quite enough to offset the dark for his human eyes, but it was still enough to get around by, if not for the strange creatures lurking out there. The trees themselves glowed in streaks of blue and green tones, and the various foliage that sprouted between them had hints of orange and yellow. The animals themselves didn’t seem to share that bioluminescence, though the wyrm--Peaches, he found himself already mentally correcting--did have extremely reflective eyes that seemed to gleam brighter than usual with even the faint glowing light to feed off of around them.

The howl sounded out again, Silas grimacing at the haunting quality of it. It was like a wolf’s howl and a wildcat’s shriek had tangled together, and while it didn’t seem as LARGE as the tyrannosaur-monster he’d seen earlier, there were more of them. He could hear them calling and screaming to each other as they moved through the dark jungle, but he heard no footsteps, no rustling of underbrush. Somehow that wasn’t entirely comforting though. “We can’t go anywhere right now, can we?” He sighed, patting Peaches again as the wyrm curled up on his lap. The wyrm flickered its tongue in response, closing its eyes. “...Alright, good plan.” Silas shrugged, laying back again. At least they seemed safe beneath the tree, and the jungle’s heat even at night was oppressive, swaddling him in the humid warmth that made sleep come easily enough, especially with how exhausting the trek had been. He was asleep from nearly the moment he closed his eyes, back in the apartment from his memory with Peaches curled up on his chest. But instead of the soft orange cat he remembered she was now a big alien lizard whose forked tongue tickled his chin with every breath.

CRACK. The streamers of sunlight that broke the canopy told Silas it was morning, despite feeling like he’d only just drifted off. He sat up, Peaches squeaking in protest as the motion jostled them from his lap. “Shh.” Silas quieted the creature as he listened. Had it been his imagin--

CRACK-CKK. It was on the tree, whatever it was. Something scraping against the trunk just over their hiding spot, the sharp impact sound followed by a grating, scraping noise. Peaches hissed, slithering for the opening of the little space beneath the roots, and Silas followed with more than a little trepidation. But still, if Peaches wasn’t frightened, perhaps then he had no need either? He blinked as they stepped out into the jungle proper once again, another thudding CRACK from behind him making him jump before he turned to see what the source was.

Stepping around the wide base of the tree, he gasped as he beheld the source. It was a huge creature, built like a great bull at nearly fifteen feet to the withers, but with a head that reminded him more of a prehistoric beast like a triceratops, a massive bony crown that was equipped with jutting spikes built above a pair of dark eyes and a mouth that he could see was filled with various leaves and stalks pulled from a nearby bush, chewing lazily as it repeated the motion that had caused the noise in the first place. CRACK, the tree bark splintered under those sharp horns and bony plate as it ground them against the wood, scraping like a deer would scrape antlers against the trunk. He stepped back as the beast turned from the tree, but if it even noticed him it made no indication, plodding on heavy split hooves back to a group of others nearby. Herbivores, Silas let out a soft breath of relief, scrambling for his notepad after a moment to try and scratch down a quick sketch of the creatures. He had a sloppy drawing of the tyrannosaur from yesterday already, following his expanded notes on Peaches, who was digging under a nearby root. “This is research.” He muttered to himself, grinning as he took a seat to draw the lazily munching beasts who seemed thankfully unconcerned with his presence. With beasts like the tyrannosaur and whatever had been making the frightening noises in the night, Silas wasn’t really surprised they weren’t threatened by a scrawny human, no matter how unfamiliar he was.

Peaches rejoined him, an unnervingly large grub in their jaws. As they settled in to eat the wriggly thing Silas suppressed the urge to gag, making time to scribble a very hasty sketch of the thing. “I guess there are bugs here, then. I’d hate to see what kind of monster grows from a grub that big.” He chuckled, then averted his gaze as the very juicy head of the creature was promptly popped off by Peaches’ needle-like teeth, the wyrm gulping it down with a satisfied chirp. Given the similarities between this jungle and those of Earth, Silas wasn’t surprised by the fact that the animal life here seemed to have similar traits and evolutionary patterns as well. It made sense in a way, but it didn’t make the fact this planet existed at all any more likely. Maybe even LESS likely, if he really tried to think about the mathematical aspects. They had certainly hit the jackpot, so why all the trepidation about making any efforts to explore at all? Especially when their tools were so unreliable? And for that matter, WHY were the tools unreliable? He was so consumed with puzzling over this that he didn’t notice when Peaches, having finished the grub and settled in to lick their claws clean, suddenly sat up and started looking around, particularly looking to the trees above. 

There was a sharp hiss, a thud, and a bellow, an arrow streaking seemingly from the sky and burying itself in the crook of a big grazing beast’s neck as it turned its head. The creature groaned as it went to its knees immediately, but the rest of the herd was another matter, lowing and roaring as they turned to bolt away from their dead comrade. And as it happened, it was toward Silas’ tree that they crashed. 

“Oh, fuck!” Silas yelped, scrambling to get behind the tree as the giant bull-beasts stampeded by, the ground shaking under the thunder of their hooves. Yet for all their size and bulk they weaved through the trees expertly, not tripping over raised roots or stones in their rush. Peaches squeaked frantically, winding between Silas’ legs as he caught his breath, grateful for the massive trunk that had broken up the rush of the herd. But the moment of relief was cut off when something large dropped from the tree to land in front of him, and before he even had a moment to process he found himself pinned, a forked spear perfectly framing his pale, vulnerable neck as it trapped him.

It was an alien, the same kind as that in the lab. This one was bigger though, with fierce green eyes and skin that was lighter overall, a beige that faded to paler yellow on its belly where he could see--the creature was also dressed a bit more heavily with sturdy hide that formed a short vest and chap-like leggings. A mottled pattern of black and green adorned the crested head, and the creature’s fierce mandibles flexed as it uttered a deep clicking sound. “Hhss, ha’adu ase pyod’e-amedha!”

Silas gasped shallowly, afraid to flex his neck at all lest the blades on either side of it slice his head clean off. The creature spoke? The one in the lab had made no coherent noise beyond its snarling and roaring, and there had been no report of any communication with it.

Another voice made him yelp, gasping as he closed his eyes in fear of being beheaded by the spear when another alien stepped over. “Pyod’e-amedha? C’takh ara’tku btena.” Silas risked another look, the creature that had him pinned now joined by another of the same heigh, but slightly different build, holding a large and very powerful-looking weapon that looked rather like a compound bow, though obviously of alien make. As he looked he realized that the one with the spear had a somewhat more feminine structure--wider hips and a subtly narrower waist, though if it was female it lacked apparent breasts. The other one was more masculine in build, but aside from his eyes being a fierce golden color he had the same skin tone and markings as the female. Twins? If he weren’t in such a terrifying predicament he would be over the moon--or moons, rather--with this new revelation.

The green-eyed one, the ‘female’, narrowed her eyes and hissed, her mandibles flaring in a very obviously aggressive manner. “Dak-etd pauk sk’tud Kray-ekh’a.” Her companion--brother?--narrowed his eyes as well, the deep clicking in his throat taking on a rather aggressive tone. “Makt-u s’twik uto-mbisa.” 

Silas’ head was spinning and not just from his restricted air supply. The words were certainly words but he had no hope of replicating them; he wondered if even their top linguists could. The aliens’ mouth structure was unique and he could only imagine what their vocal cord layout was like, to produce the sounds they did.

Suddenly Peaches appeared in his eyesight, having climbed up his body while he was too starstruck to notice and chirping at the pair. For a brief moment he was terrified, sure that they might kill the little creature, but to his surprise their wary glares abruptly softened and the male extended an arm. Peaches squeaked, leaping from Silas’ shoulder to land on it, and for a moment the pair conversed with each other quietly, looking from Silas to Peaches and back again in what looked like a cautious but curious debate. And then suddenly the spear was pulled away, Silas gasping as he buckled against the tree. But he barely had a moment to breathe before the female creature stepped close--she positively towered over him, likely at least seven and a half feet tall, and her long claws pricked through his sweat-soaked shirt as she grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him aside. “S’yuit-de.” She growled, her mandibles twitching menacingly as he looked up at her in fear, before she shoved him again, making him stumble as he started walking. He looked around, spotting the male alien walking over to his fallen prey and admiring it a moment before he took a small device from the pouch on his belt, setting it on the creature’s flank. A small light blinked, a beacon of some sort perhaps, and Silas wondered if that meant there would be more coming to collect the massive corpse; it was too large even for these powerful twins to drag. Then he came jogging back to join his sister as they marched Silas along at spearpoint.

Silas glanced down, Peaches rubbing against his leg as he walked. “You little turncoat.” He sighed under his breath. “What have you got me into?” The wyrm simply blinked up at him, tongue flickering in the glimmering light that filtered through the canopy high above. Silas looked ahead sullenly, not wanting to reward the wyrm with positive attention for this betrayal and not wanting to risk lagging and having that deadly forked spear go piercing his back. He wanted to ask where they were taking him, futile as he knew it was. He was painfully aware that with every step he was walking further and further from the base, from the compound where he was certain Maeve was foaming at the mouth ready to burn the jungle down to find where he’d gone. He could picture Leon standing there on that lonely concrete slab, nervously smoking his meager ration of cigarettes, Rodrigo cursing him for being stupid but muttering fervent prayers to his tiny statue of the Virgin Mary he kept under his bunk all the same.

He squinted, the sunlight growing brighter as they approached a break in the trees, but once they adjusted he froze in his tracks despite himself. In front of them towered a stone ziggurat, a huge temple that despite its great height still did not breach the tops of the massive trees around them. Built around it and even up some of the stepped sides were buildings, dwellings, and he could see other aliens of the twins’ and the lab-captives’ kind. But then the spear poked at him and he winced, jumping back to his normal pace. They weren’t going to let him sightsee, obviously; he only hoped he would be alive long enough to have a better chance later.

Up the stone steps he went, and he found he wasn’t even willing to sneak glances at his surroundings. The aliens they passed hissed and jeered and snarled at him, and he felt an intense shame settle over his shoulders, burning in his cheeks. These were certainly the kinsmen of the captive back home. And they certainly knew what he was. One of the jailers, the intruders, the destroyers of their jungle. Nevermind the fact he hadn’t been with the start of the expedition, he was complicit all the same.

The doorway into the ziggurat was not that high up, respectively speaking, but the steps were large and he was already worn out, so when they finally reached the dark archway he was shaking and wheezing to catch his breath, his knees feeling as though they might buckle any second. It was here they stopped pressing him onward though, so he allowed himself a moment to recover with his hands braced down against his knees, head bowed as he sucked in deep breaths. At least until the sound of heavy footsteps caught his attention, and soon a pair of clawed feet appeared in his view. This time, the alien in front of him was truly armored, and he recognized much more advanced gear than they’d previously shown or which he’d even assumed existed. He lifted his gaze to follow the creature’s frame all the way up, quaking a bit as he realized this one was even taller still, likely standing just over eight feet in height and glaring down at him.

Glaring down with eyes that blazed that same intense blue of the one in the lab. As he realized this, his own eyes widening in horror, the creature flexed one hand and from the gauntlet on their forearm sprang a long, jagged blade that was promptly leveled under his chin, the tip just barely touching his skin and shaving off a bit of the stubble there. But even that wasn’t as shocking or frightening, somehow, as the fact that when this creature spoke he understood the words.

“Welcome to Maktoth, ooman.” It growled heavily and in a distinctly un-welcoming manner. “Where is my son?”


	7. --bargaining chip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An eye for an eye, or a brother for a son. Either way, a trade is made and the waters are getting murky.

Something cool was dripping on his forehead, something warm puffing against his cheek. There was a strange smell, a hot, animal smell that was unfamiliar and slightly acrid, Silas’ nose wrinkling against it even before he opened his eyes. Hovering in front of him, a great beastly face came into focus, long saber-like teeth jutting from beneath heavy-whiskered jowls, eyes that were almost reptilian set in a face that otherwise looked quite feline. Fittingly enough his first thought was “sabertooth tiger”, even before the beast snarled and he caught more of a glimpse of it’s sleek side, a thick shaggy pelt bearing dense stripes and spikes that jutted along its back and clustered at the end of its tail like the tyrannosaur monster.

“Fuck!” He gasped as the beast growled in his face, trying to recoil and coming up short both from the shackles that hung on his wrists, anchoring him to the floor, and the fact he promptly banged the back of his head against the stone wall at his back. He looked around in a panic, a dimly-lit stone chamber around him. The sabertooth rumbled menacingly, pacing in a distinctly feline manner, but before it could decide to do anything to the helpless human chained in front of it a sharp clicking sound echoed from across the room and it retreated on cue, slinking back to join another sabertooth, and the alien who Silas remembered now, seated on a stone chair while she watched him intently. Perched on the back of her seat, Peaches’ pale hide was visible, the little wyrm chirping softly as Silas moved but not moving to join him. The alien clicked, and moved a hand, long claws drumming across the surface of Silas’ rucksack which sat in its lap. He hadn’t even had a chance to notice the familiar weight was missing. 

“Wh….what happened?” He finally ventured to speak, the silence--aside from the growls and snuffles of the sabertooths who lay in a stripy heap alongside the seated alien--proving to be just as stressful as the imminent danger of being eaten. “You...you spoke. You spoke English!” The recollection was falling back into place, though as he tried to sit up better he winced, his head throbbing painfully.

“A surprise indeed, it seems. You fainted.” The alien spoke, one claw flipping the zipper-pull of his bag back and forth lazily. “Hit your head before we could stop you.” The cold blue eyes narrowed, the only distinct feature he could make out in the dimness of the chamber still, though his eyes were adjusting bit by bit. “Who are you?”

“My...my name is S-Silas.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, his brow furrowing. “How...how do you speak English? That shouldn’t be possible; it makes no--”

“You do not know what we are.” It wasn’t a question, but there was a puzzlement behind the statement, the alien’s eyes narrowing further to icy blue slits in the darkness. 

Silas blinked. “I...no? Am I...supposed to? What the fuck is going on?” He huffed, the short chain not allowing for much movement, and certainly not giving him much leeway to sit comfortably on the cool stone floor. 

The alien said nothing for a moment, and he could see it had raised its free hand to rub at its lower mandible in a thoughtful manner, tusks twitching as it clicked and muttered to itself. Then it stood, Peaches squeaking and scuttling to the ground after it and the sabertooths raising their heads, though thankfully they remained where they lay while their master strode forward. Silas shrank against the floor, the alien’s towering stature only made more intimidating by his vulnerable position. “P-please--I don’t mean any harm.”

The alien hissed, glaring down at him before it uttered a barking, laugh-like sound. “Typical. Your kind so sure of themselves, arrogant enough to dare think you pose any threat. You came to the jungle with no weapons; do you think I am threatened by you? The pyod’e-amedha who would steal a mother’s son when he carried no weapon, no mark of the kv’var-chiva?” The alien crouched down closer to his level, but that did nothing to alleviate the intimidation factor. It--she-- raised his rucksack, jostling the bag in front of his face. “You are a scientist, but you are h'ulij-bpe, s'yuit-de. A crazy idiot.”

Silas practically wheezed, his breath coming in short, near-panicked gasps that threatened to make him black out again as he struggled to process enough air. “I-I don’t underst--how can you speak? You know...you know humans?!”

He cowered when the alien’s mandibles flared and she uttered a roar that felt like it would make his skull explode with the force of the fury behind it, and suddenly a great clawed hand seized hold of his short, the fabric tearing and his arms jolted painfully as he was dragged up to the maximum height the shackles would allow. “Tell me where my son is!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Silas cried, his eyes shut tight to avoid looking what he was sure was certain death in the face, his shoulders aching as his arms were pulled taut, threatening to dislocate. The alien’s son--he didn’t need to ask who that could be. Their markings, their eyes, it was obvious. “H-He’s in the labs, underground! I came here t-to try and help him--I wanted to find him food!” He forced himself to look up, the alien’s fearsome visage no less furious but seeming to be restrained, listening to his words. “He...he’s sick. I swear, I want to help. They won’t even let me near him; he tried to kill me a couple days ago.”

The alien’s eyes slitted again and she exhaled a sharp chuff, and while her voice was clearly weighted with pride, he noted the crease between her heavy, spine-studded brows, a pained glint in those otherwise ferocious eyes. “More a warrior than he believes.” For a moment the alien paused, and Silas dared to breathe, before she looked to him again sharply. “If your people want you alive, they will return him. We leave soon.” And with that she suddenly dropped him, a pained yelp escaping his throat before he could compose himself. She clicked curtly, the sabertooth beasts rising and padding after her swiftly, leaving Silas alone for the moment. Alone save for Peaches, who slunk forward like a guilty puppy, chirping softly as Silas winced and rubbed at his wrists, already scraped raw by the sharp-edged shackles.

There wasn’t much of a chance for him to acknowledge the wyrm though, before footsteps made him jump back to attention and one of the twins from earlier--the male--came pacing over. He crouched, unlocking the shackles and grabbing Silas by the arm to pull him up. He barely managed to grab his rucksack with the other hand, and thankfully the alien seemed unbothered by his retrieval. 

“What’s happening?” Silas asked--he hadn’t heard this one speak English, but if their leader could, he wondered just how many others could as well. “We...are we going to the compound?”

“Shut it.” The alien snarled, and Silas did just that. It wasn’t the answer to the question he asked, but it was satisfying enough to the unasked one that he didn’t dare push the point. He winced again as they headed for the open archway of the ziggurat, the light streaming in and blinding him briefly before he adjusted. Before him, down the steps he’d been dragged up just hours ago, judging by the position of the sun overhead, he could see a small group of creatures, big and strong, but lean and long-legged. They looked like horses, but like a prehistoric form whose hooves had not condensed to a single digit, sharp tri-split nails that dug at the ground at the end of their strong legs. Their faces were frightening though, their horse-like skulls well defined and their too-wide mouths filled with teeth meant both for ripping as well as chewing, visible as they gaped around the bits being set in their jaws. There were other aliens waiting, mounted up and fully-armored, their faces hidden behind masks that ranged from simplistic to ornate in design, all of them turned to watch as Silas was hauled down the steps to join them. The leader, their matriarch, glared at him sharply as he was shoved in front of her, before her face disappeared behind a mask of her own. This one shaped to look like a fierce skull of some sort--a tiger’s skull, it looked like, it was befitting as her sabertooth companions snarled and hissed, the sound in their throats reminding him of the eerie screams he’d heard in the night, sheltered under the tree roots.

“W-we’re riding these?” He regarded the large horse-beasts warily, especially as the one beside them snapped its jaws and stamped, raking those hooves into the dirt.

“To the edge, yes.” The matriarch spoke, before pulling herself aboard the creature and reaching down to grab him by the back of his neck, her grip terribly strong as she dragged him aboard to sit in front of her. Silas stiffened in terror, his fingers white-knuckled as he gripped the pommel of the hard saddle beneath him. His mind was reeling; he was barely even aware as the aliens spoke amongst themselves, the matriarch and her hunting party setting off. At least the creatures’ gait was surprisingly pleasant and smooth, because the size of it and the corresponding size and shape of the saddle was very unkind to Silas’ soft human body, his legs aching even within the first few minutes. All the worse because against his back was the armored giant of the matriarch, who said nothing to him as they made their way through the jungle. 

That was fine by Silas, who was too filled with confusion to offer much in the way of conversation anyway. This species wasn’t a stranger to humanity, even if humanity could claim to be a stranger to them. But how could that be? How was it that these creatures, a few million miles from Earth, could speak and understand the same language? And did they know? That was the most terrible thought of all, because the implications were heavy beyond Silas’ ability to properly appreciate. If Maeve knew, then that meant she had lied to Silas. It meant they all had, all the higher-ups orchestrating this expedition, this effort at colonization. Silas had worried the captivity of the alien in the lab would be considered hostile, but now he wondered how deliberate it really was. Was humanity secretly provoking a war with this species? And if so….why?

He gasped as one of the sabertooth beasts running alongside them snapped at his dangling foot, and he pulled his legs up closer as best he could despite how uncomfortable it was. The matriarch uttered a sharp word and the beast turned aside, disappearing into the undergrowth with its companion. Silas glanced up at the fierce beastly mask she wore, licking his very dry lips briefly before he dared to speak, having to raise his voice over the steady thud of the hoofbeats and crumpling of foliage underfoot. “Wh-what are you going to do?”

“I will retrieve my son and kill anyone in the way of that.” The assuredness of her statement sent chills down his spine despite the heat. 

Despite everything, he wanted to warn her. He didn’t want to see a war break out, especially one that seemed so needless, “The walls, they have--”

“Guns, I know.” She growled, and he bit his lip as he fell silent, looking away when she lowered her face to regard him from behind her mask. “Zazin.” She huffed finally, looking forward again, and while he did not understand the alien word Silas had a distinct feeling it was an insult of some sort, a chastisement. It certainly made him feel bad, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Even with the swift beasts, the sun was starting to sink, the sky stained with the brilliant sunset when they reached the treeline. Pulling up to a halt well within the shelter of the trees, the hunters descended, the matriarch pulling Silas down after herself and digging her claws into his shoulder as they strode to the edge of the jungle. He looked around, startled to find them apparently alone all of a sudden. “Where did the others--”

“Silent.” She growled curtly, clicking behind her mask. The claws dug slightly into his shoulder as they both stared out over the clear-cut, the compound lit up by the lights around the complex. Spotlights on the walls rotated steadily to keep the immediate surroundings visible, but there was still a sizable gap of open ground between them and the line of sight. “You are my barter. My son for your life. Or I will have the skulls of every ooman who stands in my way.” He had little doubt that she would hold true to that threat. She took a step forward, pushing him along to keep pace with her longer stride. “Your people come here to take what is not theirs. Bold, but stupid. Honorless.”

“How do you know about humans? We haven’t….we haven’t left our system for any manned missions til now.” Silas didn’t dare turn his head to look at her, too concerned about tripping and being crushed in the claws that held tight over his shoulder already. 

She hissed disdainfully. “Your people are not the only--nor oldest--in the universe. My people know yours well. We know Earth, we know oomans. Soft prey, but occasionally worth our time. Your world has served us with good chiva grounds for generations. Not in many years, though. You burned your jungles, your wilds. Very few places to hunt.”

“You….you’ve BEEN to Earth?” He spoke incredulously, risking a quick glance up. She wasn’t looking at him, her skull-mask focused straight ahead on the compound as they strode toward it, the long, ragged cape that swept back from her shoulders billowing as a warm breeze swirled around them.

“Yes. Many years ago. But we know your tongue. Know many tongues, to speak with many people. You are surprised. Thought we were stupid savages?” She clicked sharply and he felt like she was staring at him even without turning her head. He felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment--it was true. The captive alien in the lab had carried no weapons, no technology to indicate otherwise. It had been easy to assume--well, he didn’t like to think of it now. Not in such dire circumstances.

The lit area was just ahead, and Silas felt his breath quicken anxiously. He could see the front gate, hear faintly the sounds of soldiers speaking, orders being relayed around the ramparts. He was pretty sure he could even hear the moment their presence was realized, and as the spotlight swung to fix on them he suddenly gasped as the matriarch grabbed him tighter, pulling him in front of her with one hand and using the other to extend the wristblade she’d previously threatened him with, laying the sharp edge against his throat.

Silas reflexively lifted his hands in a placating manner, the faint clicking of guns being cocked as he heard a panicked alarm going up. “Doctor MacLaughlin?!” Someone called--he couldn’t even tell which of the hazy silhouettes it was that spoke thanks to the bright light in his eyes. “Holy sh--someone get the Commander!”

“Don’t shoot!” Silas yelled, though it made the blade scrape uncomfortably against his throat. The matriarch’s claws loosened just a touch, perhaps rewarding him for his willingness to cooperate. “I’m alright! Just...don’t shoot, please!” He wasn’t even sure if they’d listen--he wasn’t really a military officer out here, after all. But aside from the faint shuffling of anxious soldiers he didn’t hear anyone fiddling with their triggers.  
“Silas!” He heard Maeve’s voice suddenly, crackling over the intercom loudly. She sounded scared, relieved, and furious all at once. He was glad to hear her--but at the same time he felt a hollowness, a reluctance to let his guard down. “Unhand him immediately!” Maeve’s words redirected to the matriarch and he could only imagine the terrifying sight they made on the cameras she was doubtless glued to the screens of as she spoke. 

“You do the talking.” The matriarch rumbled quietly, and Silas swallowed nervously.

“M-Maeve, I’m fine. Just….just give back the specimen.” He grimaced a bit as the blade pressed into his skin; the matriarch clearly disliked his use of the term to describe her son but he knew he needed to use words that Maeve would appreciate if she was going to listen. “Please. They’re all around the compound by now--” He could hear the soldiers shuffling nervously on the walls, the extra spotlights sweeping more intently, “--this doesn’t have to turn into a fight! Just...give him back.” He struggled to keep his tone level, but his heart was hammering in his chest so hard it was a wonder it didn’t break his sternum.

There was silence, the faint crackle in the air telling him the intercom was still on, but he could just picture Maeve sitting at the controls with her jaw clenched, eyes wild with anger as she found herself backed into a corner. Now he just prayed that she would not choose to fight her way out of it, if only to prevent herself from seeing her brother beheaded in front of her.

Finally she spoke again, just as the feedback was starting to whine. “Two minutes.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and the blade moved just a few millimeters away, giving him enough room to breathe. Still the matriarch held onto him though, clearly not willing to let her guard down anymore than that tiny concession until the deal was struck.

Two minutes never felt so long before finally the gate unlocked and began to lower, revealing a squad with weapons ready, along with Rhodes and Mr. Lao, who stood on either side of the alien, the matriarch’s son. He swayed slightly where he stood, clearly still disoriented from the excessive sedatives in his system combined with his weakened condition, but he lifted his head as the gate lowered to see them waiting there. Silas felt the matriarch’s claws flex on his shoulder and he realized she was trembling just slightly, barely restraining herself. He felt his heart tighten uncomfortably at that, as if it was only just now really registering that she was indeed, beneath all the ferocity and threatening nature, a mother scared for her child’s wellbeing. 

“Release Silas, and he will meet your kin halfway to undo his restraints.” Maeve spoke through the intercom again. There was no argument, the sharp claws suddenly gone from his shoulder and the blade hissing back into its sheath within her gauntlet, the matriarch giving SIlas a slight shove that made him stumble. He gasped, catching his balance and glancing back at her briefly before he looked ahead again. The young alien took a tentative step as well, before Rhodes gave him a tap with the butt of his gun and he hurried unsteadily to meet the human between the two points. As Silas approached he felt that painful tightening in his chest again and the hot flush of shame in his cheeks as he met the alien’s eyes, reaching out as he extended his still-restrained wrists to undo the mechanical lock. “I-I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly, meeting his eyes briefly. The alien regarded him silently, his eyes dull and angry, but after a moment his brow smoothed in a relieved manner and he simply stepped around Silas, stumbling to rejoin his mother. Silas watched as the two reunited, the matriarch’s actions restrained to avoid betraying her emotions, before a hand on his arm jolted him back to reality and he stumbled as Rhodes hauled him back to the compound. “You have thirty seconds to get out of here before we open fire.” Maeve stated simply. The matriarch said nothing, simply turning to sweep an arm around her son’s shoulders and guiding him away out of the spotlight’s glare. Silas struggled to watch as much as possible before he was pulled back into the crowd and the gate slid shut again with a heavy clunk.

Immediately the compound swarmed with activity, soldiers hurrying to secure all posts and ensure they were no longer being surrounded by unseen threats, while Rhodes simply hauled Silas along to the Command building. “You alright, son?” he spoke gruffly while Silas stumbled half-dazed at his side.

“I-I’m fine, just...it’s been a crazy couple days.” Understatement of his life, perhaps. But Rhodes was clearly relieved to have him back, the old cowboy patting him on the shoulder as they headed inside and down the familiar hall to the medical ward. “I’m in trouble, huh.” Silas quipped dryly.

“Oh yeah. But I think she’ll be too happy to have you back in one piece to ship you off for insubordination, at least for now.” The older man chuckled dryly as he handed Silas off to the medics, who hurried him over to a bed where they could get him properly examined and cleaned up. “I’ll wait here. Soon as you’re cleared, I’m to bring you to Maeve’s quarters.”

“Oh, good.” Silas muttered, only half-sarcastic. He was glad to be back, but there were too many heavy doubts and questions still swirling in his head. Perhaps in the privacy of her quarters, he would finally get Maeve to come clean about the truth of their presence here. In the meantime he was glad to be given a sandwich--with real bread, no less--and some vitamin-infused water to drink while the medics checked him over and ensured he was no worse for the wear even after his little trek into the wilderness.


	8. --a different approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a clear bill of health Silas now has to get some answers from Maeve, if he can, and see if he can get her on board with a new idea.

Silas watched as Mr. Lao circled him, taking notes while the machine beeped, the semi-circular bar slowly rotating in turn around the seated man. “I’m pretty sure they’re not radioactive. We had one in the lab for a few days with no readings, after all.”

Mr. Lao didn’t look up as he continued tapping notes into his tablet. “The individual was not radioactive, no. But you were in their dwelling; we have to be thorough and ensure you didn’t pick up anything unsavory.”

Silas shifted a little--to which Lao uttered a curt “please don’t move” and he sighed irritably. “I’ve been sitting here long enough, I think. I’ve been cleaned up, fed, checked over three different times. I need to go speak to my sister.”

“The Commander wants me to be thorough.” Mr. Lao’s dark eyes flicked up to meet his finally, and yet even when focused he seemed oddly vacant. “Do you suggest I disobey her orders?”

“I suggest you take the results as they are and let me go. It’s important.” Silas scowled, his expression only met with the impassive stare as Lao watched him for a moment. Then he nodded, turning to start switching off the machine and recording his final notes. “You seem in remarkably confident spirits after what must have been a terrifying ordeal.”

“It wasn’t...well, it was scary, at times. But they said some things to me that didn’t make sense.” He slid off the table, shaking the circulation back into his legs and stretching, his shoulder aching a bit where the alien matriarch’s claws had scratched and pressed into his skin through his old shirt.

“I should assume so; they are aliens after all.” If it were someone else saying it, Silas might be able to sense the joke in the tone. But Lao just sounded dismissive, almost mocking in a way.

Silas’ brow furrowed as he regarded the other man, running a hand over his head to smooth his hair back--though a couple sandy-blond strands bounced free again, his hair having always grown too fast to keep in check for very long. “....They’re aliens that speak English, Lao. That’s pretty significant to me. And no, I wasn’t hallucinating or anything. How else would I have been able to communicate for them?”

“I believe you.” Lao said simply, straightening up as he faced Silas levelly. “But you should still be cautious. Your mother certainly taught you not to speak to strangers, yes? I imagine an entire race of aliens qualifies for some caution.” He stepped back, gesturing to the doorway with a polite nod. “I’ll send my report to the Commander. Have a good day, Doctor MacLaughlin.”

Silas grunted affirmatively as he stepped past him and headed out of the medical ward, adjusting his shirt and exhaling heavily. His suspicions were raised; Lao’s dismissive nature made him feel distinctly uneasy. Why didn’t he seem surprised by the revelation of the aliens’ ability to communicate with them? Now that he thought about it, Lao had been very silent when he and Leon had been in the lab. Their excitement and curiosity was offset greatly by his apparent disinterest in the whole matter, which Silas had just chalked up to him being awkward in a new situation or perhaps just focused too heavily on the clinical aspect of things.

But now he wondered if Lao knew more than he’d let on. He scowled at the thought as he climbed the stairs that led to the second floor of the Command center, past the ‘conference room’ where darkened screens lined the wall over a holodeck table, everything Maeve needed to communicate and plan with their superiors still aboard the Pilgrim and even back on Earth, once they established their long-range signals. Past that there was another elevator, this one leading to the top floor which was Maeve’s quarters. Amos Rhodes was there, sitting at his official guardpost with his feet up, gun set across his lap as he flipped through a book that Silas felt had to be held together with nothing more than tape and well-wishes. He couldn’t even read the title, the book was so worn. But then Rhodes lowered it, raising a grizzled brow at him. “You all clear, then?”

“As clear as I can be.” Silas sighed, shaking his head. “Permission to enter?”

“Permission granted.” The old cowboy grunted, returning to his book after pressing the button that unlocked the elevator, letting Silas in. He took the moment to dust himself off, hoping he looked presentable enough to have Maeve take him seriously despite how much trouble he was sure he’d be in.

A faint beep announced his arrival, and the moment the doors opened Maeve was there to greet him, her brow furrowed with worry as she promptly threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Ah, shit. I gotta say, I wasn’t--” He started to speak but then she released him and he saw stars as she slapped him directly across the cheek. “Ow, fuck! What the hell?” He glared up at her, rubbing his stinging cheek. She glared at him silently, her shoulders stiff, before she stepped close to hug him again before he could protest. Not that he really felt like it, in the end. As unpleasant a surprise as the slap was, Silas wasn’t entirely confident in saying he didn’t deserve it, all things considered. And after a moment of sullen grumbling he finally sighed, hugging her back. “Sorry. I didn’t plan on scaring you like that.”

“You’re an idiot, Silas. And I ought to have you written up and shipped off this rock for such a blatant disregard of protocol and orders and COMMON SENSE, but…” She took a deep breath, composing herself. “...I’m just glad you’re back now, and in one piece.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, before letting her take his arm, leading him into the main room. Her quarters were a far cry above what the barrack blocks offered everyone else. Fully furnished, she had her own kitchen and bathroom and a separate bedroom from the living space they now sat in, on a couch that was actually comfortable, much to Silas’ surprise. He sat first, while she stepped away to get them some drinks, and he recognized the bottle of whiskey she pulled from the cabinet on the wall. “Holy shit, you brought that all the way here?”

“Might as well, considering I’m in this for the long haul.” She chuckled dryly, pouring a couple of glasses for them before she came to join him. “You had something to eat, right? Don’t want this knocking you on your ass so quick.” She smiled, and Silas felt himself relaxing. They so rarely had time to just be together like this; Maeve was never so relaxed in the public eye. Always the cold and calculating and imposing Commander, even he didn’t get to see much of his sister beneath it all anymore. But as their glasses clinked together and they each leaned back to take a sip, something tugged at his mind and he frowned, the whiskey burning on his tongue and down into his chest when he swallowed. “The long haul, huh?”

“Well, yes. Handpicked by the Admiral himself.” She raised a brow at him as she took another drink, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m officially in charge of overseeing our expansion.”

“And our acts of warfare?” Silas met her gaze steadily, despite how harsh it suddenly became.

Maeve stared at him hard, her glass raised to her lips, though she did not drink again, simply glaring at him across the top of the glass. Then she let out a very controlled sigh, setting the glass down on the coffee table before she regarded him again. “Silas, you’ve been through a lot in the last couple days. But I need you to measure your words very carefully.”

“Are you saying that as my sister, or my Commander?” He frowned, and she narrowed her eyes at him briefly. “Both. There are a lot of things you’re not--”

“Not what, aware of? Yeah, I’m starting to see that.” He shook his head, putting his glass down as well before he turned to face her, reaching out to grab her hand. “Maeve, please. I’m supposed to be the Lead Science Officer here, but I feel like I’m stumbling around in the dark. Just...please, just tell me, did you know?”

“Know what.” She glanced from his hand on hers to his face, looking very guarded suddenly. It made his stomach twist. Since when did she look at him like that? Since when did she hide so much from him? Even the protocol and duty didn’t keep so many secrets between them normally, so why had it suddenly changed? But that just made it clearer than ever that he needed an answer, any answer, and so he swallowed hard before clarifying, “Did you know that they know us? That they speak our language? Did you know that when you took that hostage?”

She pulled her hand away, her chin lifting slightly and the Commander slowly returning to chase away his sister, fixing her hard stare on him. But she said nothing, which only made Silas feel more anxious. “Maeve, please. Did we come here to research, or to conquer? Is humanity waging war on these things and just not telling anyone yet? Why am I here?!” His anxiety was suddenly overtaken by anger, the suppressed frustrations and nagging doubts that had been plaguing him for the past few nights suddenly surging forth. “What am I here for, when you won’t even let me do my job? The one thing I’m good at and you keep me locked down, banned from the lab, banned from going anywhere because there’s alien warriors all over the damn place and you couldn’t just TELL me?!”

“Silas.” She spoke loudly, but it was not a shout. It was a command, befitting her duty, her nature. He felt his jaw tighten, but he knew he’d already pushed too far, lowering his head as she stood up in a swift motion. “...We are not here to wage war. We are here to seek reparation. This planet is the first we’ve found capable of sustaining human life without having to terraform and seed an entire atmosphere. Yes, I knew we had dealt with this species before; I was briefed on it before we came. But that’s highly classified and on a strict need-to-know basis.”

“Don’t I need to know? You wanted to kill him, Maeve.” Silas stood as well, desperately trying to make sense of it all. “You knew the significance and you wanted to kill him.”

“It attacked you.”

“He was chained in a lab!” Silas exploded again. “He was starving and scared and angry! Of course he was gonna lash out. But any of them could’ve killed me out there and they didn’t, and they didn’t hold me for experiments either. How do you justify that?!”

“I don’t need to justify anything to you, Doctor.” She curled her lip and Silas felt like she’d punched him in the face, the lingering sting of her slap burning on his cheek. “I think you ought to return to your barrack now. Amos will arrange an escort for you, to ensure you stay there.”

“Maeve.” He grabbed her arm as she tried to turn away in dismissal. “Maeve, please. I’m sorry, I just...I don’t want us to get into something we can’t finish. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, that’s all.”

“You seem more concerned for the aliens’ wellbeing than that of your own people, Silas.” She leered at him and he shook his head emphatically. “That’s not true. But...we’re not going to get anywhere good if you don’t let me work. I saw some amazing things out there, Maeve. Incredible creatures, fascinating biological functions in the plant life. And the people, the aliens, they could’ve just killed me and come taken their kin by force. Believe me, they could have.” He raised his brows, trying to reestablish peace between them as she stared back at him, still on edge but at least she was listening. “...We need to do something different, or every human here is in danger. That’s what I’m trying to say, Maeve.”

She looked at his hand on her arm and for a moment he was worried she’d pull away and dismiss him again, but then she relaxed a touch, turning more to face him. “What do you think we should do then?” She raised a brow, skeptical but open, at least as open as it was possible for her to be. 

He let out a soft huff of relief before taking a deeper breath, steeling himself for her reaction to the next words as they came out, the idea one that had come to him in the midst of all this, and which he was sure was insane and foolish on his part, but it was surely better than antagonizing this clearly powerful and dangerous species--”Let me study them. Directly. We’ve already taken a good step in giving them back their kinsman, let me establish a proper rapport and we can share this world, instead of trying to steal it out from under them.”

She blinked, staring at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me, Silas? You...want to go back out there and make friends with those things?”

“....If that’s how you wanna simplify it, yes. Sure. Anything’s better than provoking an all-out war, isn’t it? If we can even just maintain civility with them, isn’t that something we should try?”

She did pull away this time, but only so she could grab her glass again and down the remaining whiskey in one swift gulp, shaking her head. “You need to go back to the medical ward for more scans. I think you suffered some head trauma.”

“I’m serious, Maeve.” 

“I know you are, that’s the problem.” She huffed, pinching the brow of her nose as she closed her eyes a moment. She said nothing now, standing still and silent, and Silas knew she was thinking hard. In the meantime he retrieved his glass too, taking a nervous sip to try and steady himself. 

Finally Maeve lowered her hand and sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “...I can’t make a call like that without consulting the Admiral and the board. But...I’ll bring it up with them, and see what they say. In the meantime, you should go back to your barrack anyway. Get some rest, settle back in. But for the love of God, do not leave the compound without clearance, understand?”

Silas let out his breath, his knees nearly buckling as he nodded. “Yes, of course. I understand. Thank you, Maeve.” He hesitated, the earlier hostility still hanging heavy in the air between them, but then he closed the distance and hugged her again tightly, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “I love you, you know? I’m sorry.”

She sighed tersely, then hugged him back. “I love you too. I’m sorry for slapping you. Idiot.” She pushed him off and waved him away. “To your barrack, now. I’ll let you know what the higher-ups say about the idea.”

He nodded, not wanting to press his luck further as he headed back to the elevator. The whiskey warmed his chest, burning around his pounding heart as it opened on the command deck again, Amos waving him off from behind his book while Silas strode along the walkway. It was crazy, it really was. He knew that, of course. But it was important. Not just for humanity, either; there was some part of him that selfishly wanted this for himself. How many people could say they had such an encounter with an alien race and lived to tell about it? How many people could say they’d actually spoken to an alien race? He knew he could end up dead just as easily as not, but it was a risk he found himself willing to take.

It was still dark, but he imagined daylight wasn’t far off, the compound extra well-lit in the wake of the startling encounter earlier. Not that it would help, he imagined. Those hunters had disappeared into thin air; spotlights only helped when they damn well wanted to be seen. But saying that would do no good to soften anyone to the idea of forming a truce, even an uneasy one.

The door to the barrack block hissed open and he yelped as he was immediately set upon by Rodrigo and Leon, the two of them practically dragging him inside and talking over each other, Rodrigo scolding him in Spanish while Leon begged him for details. It was heartwarming, in a way. After such a strange and tenuous reception by his own sister, it felt good to be with them again; even Rodrigo was more curious than anything once he got his chastising out of the way, and with Lao nowhere to be seen Silas was more than willing to put off sleep a while longer yet in order to tell them all about his little adventure.


	9. --a new protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas sets off again. And he has some very terrible luck.

“I expect you to report by sundown. If not, I’m sending in guns.” Maeve scowled sternly as she checked Silas over for the fifth time, ensuring his gear was all strapped up properly, a reinforced vest and legguards new additions to his wardrobe. Silas had protested at first; truth be told he knew they wouldn’t help much at all if he really ran into trouble. But saying so wouldn’t do any good and he didn’t want Maeve to go back on her already tenuous word.

It was a shock, honestly, when she had called him up and informed him that the Admiral himself insisted they pursue this new branch into diplomacy. Silas would set out into the jungle to make contact with the humanoid species again, this time with the aim of establishing a productive working relationship, providing both with research and hopefully allowing for future expansion on this planet without conflict. Silas wasn’t entirely sure such a thing was going to be possible, a nagging doubt in the pit of his stomach insisted, but that was a problem for the future. First, he needed to get there and avoid being torn to shreds by the sabertooth beasts.

“Ow!” He growled as Maeve yanked hard on the shoulder strap that crossed his chest, a more secure way of carrying his supply pack. “Easy.”

“Your beacon is in there, I want to be sure it STAYS there.” Maeve glared at him, her brow furrowed and her eyes steely. Silas was sure she had hoped the Admiral would dismiss the notion altogether. But even she could not argue with the great Admiral Hawkins, whose presence aboard the Pilgrim in orbit was like an imposing thunderstorm that lay in wait, not yet cascading over the land. “Sundown, you hear me? Don’t waste time.” She turned away briskly, only to return a moment later with a standard-issue pistol, offering it to him.

“No.” Silas shook his head emphatically at that. “They pointed out the fact I didn’t have weapons before; I think going in there with one is going to be a bad idea.”

“You mentioned other beasts too.” Maeve scowled further. “I cannot let you go out there without at least a minimum protective measure.”

Silas pushed the holster back toward her, shaking his head again. “I can hide and I can run. They’ll probably be aware of me being there before anything else is, honestly; if they want to hear what I have to say they’ll make sure I get the chance to say it.”

She regarded him flatly for a moment, then finally relented with a bitter sigh. “Those are not odds I am comfortable relying on. But if this is how you insist it be done, the Admiral says I must do what I can to support that.” She turned to face him after setting the pistol back on the table, straightening up and saluting briskly. “Dismissed, Silas. Remember, sundown.”

He saluted her in turn, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” Heading out of the armory where he’d been getting prepared, it was now Leon--followed by Mr. Lao--who accosted him, looking positively gleeful. He’d been thrilled by the story of Silas’ outing, and when Silas was given the okay for his bold and possibly very stupid new mission he’d gone nuts putting together lists of things he wanted Silas to catalogue or bring back samples of. As a result, his backpack was weighed down with a lot of containers and vials for collecting assorted clippings from plant--and possibly animal life. Now he grabbed hold of Silas’ hand, shaking firmly. “You be careful out there, MacLaughlin, okay?”

“I’ll certainly try. The hard part is just going to be convincing THEM now, I think.” He chuckled awkwardly, glancing to Mr. Lao, who loomed silently beside the pair as they bid their farewell. He simply nodded, his expression unreadable, neither disapproving or excited by the task at hand.

Of course, Rodrigo was next in line for sending Silas off, the gates creaking open behind them as he came up and clapped him on the back. “Ay, he beat me to it. Feels redundant now to say ‘be careful’ again.” He chuckled, though despite his warm smile Silas could clearly see the unease etched in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of the corners of his mouth, looking for all intents and purposes like a nervous but proud father about to watch his son ship off to war. “Come back in one piece, eh? I wouldn’t know what to do with all your nerdy trash if you got taken out by some weird alien monster, hermanito.”

Silas smiled at him, patting Rodrigo’s shoulder. “You’re one to talk, mister rock-lover. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Probably.” He grimaced a little, allowing himself room to be just a bit doubtful.

Rodrigo smiled in turn, but it didn’t look entirely reassured. He reached into the collar of his own shirt, pulling out the thick silver chain that he always kept hidden under the fabric and lifting the necklace away. On it was an ornate cross, one of the few snippets of his good Catholic upbringing he had brought all the way across the stars. “I know you’re not a believer, Silas, but humor me, eh?” He settled the necklace over Silas’ head instead. 

“I appreciate it, brother.” Silas nodded, tucking it safely into his own shirt. “I feel luckier, in any case.” 

“Go on then. Quicker you go, quicker you get back. Estar seguro, Silas.” He gave him a light nudge toward the open gateway, waving him off. Silas waved back, then took a deep breath as he regarded the open stretch of clear cut ground before him, the spot where the matriarch had stood with him and where they’d made their exchange still etched into his mind, even if the uneven ground did not reflect their footprints anymore. He looked to the jungle, rolling his shoulders and grimacing a little as sweat already gathered on the nape of his neck, the heat and the nerves and the added weight of his vest already getting to him, before he set off at a brisk pace, mindful not to wear himself out too much. Now he knew some of the dangers the jungle held, he wanted to conserve his energy as much as possible.

The jungle itself, for all those dangers, was almost welcoming once he got there. The humidity was intense but at least the sun wasn’t directly beating on him. And the rays that pierced the canopy were beautiful, illuminating patches of mossy grass and little drifting leaves that fell. When he’d been following Peaches before, he hadn’t had much chance to actually appreciate the foliage, but there were plants here that both reminded him of Earth and which were strange beyond belief. He allowed himself to take his time, taking out a couple containers in order to carefully pinch off bits of leaves for samples to take home. He had entered the jungle from a different direction this time, having left straight out from the front gate, and so he knew he needed to alter his course in order to find the alien settlement. A quick glance at his compass and he was off, trudging carefully between the towering trees on his way. He wondered if there were any hunters lingering out here to keep an eye on the humans from a distance. He glanced up at the branches and vines that formed bridges between the trees, a little nervous at the notion of them hiding up there, unseen but ever-watchful.

Through the ambiance of the jungle there was a new sound reaching him, one he hadn’t been in the right area to hear before, he supposed. Running water? He had wondered if this world’s livability extended to its water source, and so he was eager to find it in order to get a good sample for further analysis.

The source was soon found as he stumbled between a set of closely-packed trees with spindly trunks that stretched out at an arc, hanging branches shading the winding stream--it looked decently deep but was too narrow for him to call it a river, barely fifteen feet from shore to shore at the point he stood, at least. “Gah! Jeez.” Silas shook his head as he nearly fell down the bank, the sudden drop shrouded by long grass, before he climbed down to scoop some water into a vial. It certainly looked safe, cool and clear and like regular water. He sat there for a moment, holding the vial up to the light and admiring it, before he heard a crunching through the underbrush just upstream. Instinctively he pressed himself back against the bank, the grassy overhang providing some welcome cover as he peered out toward the source of the noise. 

Up ahead, pushing between the cluster of riverside trees and reeds that choked the bank, he saw one of the massive hooved creatures nudging its way through. As the leaves cascaded over its massive bony crest it lowered its head to drink from the water, not seeming to mind Silas’ presence if it noticed him despite his efforts to stay low-profile. He let out a relieved sigh, then dug into his pack in order to get his sketchpad out, keen to get a little sketch done where he could. But as his pen scratched faintly across the surface he noticed a stirring, the herbivore snorting and stamping a heavy hoof into the shallows as if to drive something away. Silas looked up, drawn by the brief commotion, and in that moment something churned in the shallows just in front of him.

He looked forward again just in time to see a wide mouth brimming with small but needle-like fangs opening, a slithering form like that of a giant catfish with stumpy forelimbs instead of fins hauling itself up. Despite its ungainly bulk, he barely had a moment to register what he was looking at before those jaws clamped onto his foot and he was abruptly yanked from his spot, scrambling in the silty dirt as he let out a shout of alarm. With his free foot he kicked at the beast’s blunt head but it only bit down harder, those teeth finally piercing through the thick leather of his boot and making pain blossom sharp and burning through his ankle. He screamed, only to find his mouth filling with water as the creature pulled him just past the shallows at the bank. Panic overtook his pain then and he twisted, blindly digging his hands into the mud until he found a rock and was able to pull himself forward, curling in to grab at the great head of the fish that slowly but steadily pulled him deeper. He could just make out the glint of its small eyes in the water, turned murky by his struggling, but that was enough. He swung with the rock, his lungs already burning with the limited air he’d managed to hold in them, and hammered directly at the creature’s eye.

It worked, the great fish’s jaw gaping as it released him and recoiled, giving Silas a chance to scramble for the surface. He sucked in a desperate breath as his head broke free, but when he turned to try and get back to the shore he found himself powerless against the current that ran through the deeper center of the small river. It looked peaceful from above, but in the deeper channel there was a strong pull, the water whisking him away. “Oh, no. Oh, fuck!” He cursed through his teeth, struggling to keep himself oriented as the current bore him along the winding ravine that the river cut through the jungle. It was strong and swift, but he could at least keep himself afloat well enough. His ankle throbbed but the cool water helped to numb it, at least enough to let him stay preoccupied. As another bend in the river appeared he angled himself, trying to work with his momentum in order to get free of the current’s pull, but suddenly something caught his injured ankle and he was yanked down with barely enough time to gasp for air. There in the water beneath him, the fish-beast had returned, one eye bloodied from the rock he had still managed to hang onto. It shook its head hard and he had to fight not to scream and lose all his air as those needle teeth shredded into his already damaged ankle, his boot torn to pieces in the creature’s maw. The current was so strong he could barely repeat his attack from before; pulling himself to reach its head was a monumental task and he was already seeing spots in his vision. But he flailed desperately, the rock gouging across its waxy forehead and then smashing into its already-crushed eye again. The fish groaned--he felt the sound more than heard it--and released him again, sinking back into the murk begrudgingly.

He had to wonder though, if it was the rock that really did the trick or if it was the sudden plunge in the current, the water yanking him down again just as he tried to reach the surface. He felt something hard scrape across his back, felt the containers in his pack crunch and shatter between him and the rocks as he was whisked through a narrow passage. Bubbles exploded in his vision as he cried out involuntarily, before his head broke free of the water and he inhaled a quick breath--just in time to be tossed over a sheer drop. It probably felt longer than it really was, in his battered and disoriented state, but that wasn’t much of a comfort as he fell into the pool below, a rock slicing into his side and another sending stars dancing in his view as his head glanced off of it. At least then he was no longer being dragged, drifting aimlessly in the small pool that grew clearer as he drifted away from where the river fell into it. But he could not move, could not focus beyond the encroaching dimness at the edges of his vision. The weight of Rodrigo’s cross around his neck barely registered and he felt himself reaching out, pleading to a God he did not believe in himself, please, don’t let me drown here. I have to help them. I can’t go out like this.

He felt the air escaping him, but as he fought to make his limbs respond he suddenly saw something shadowy above him. Something broke through the water, seized hold of him by the collar and pulled him up. He sputtered as air suddenly bathed him, coughing wetly as he was dragged free of the pool, reaching up to grab hold of the thing holding onto him. A hand, an arm? Suddenly he was dropped roughly onto dry ground and something growled, the fearsome face of one of the hunter people coming into view. This one was new, a low and menacing rattle in its throat as it regarded him, before seizing hold of him and flipping him onto his stomach. Silas groaned, coughing up a bit more water with the rough motion before he realized his backpack was being cut open. “N-no, wait, I need--”

“Ell-osde' pauk, s'yuit-de.” The alien’s voice rasped harshly above him, and Silas winced as a clawed hand grabbed hold of his neck, pinning him into the soft dirt while his backpack was torn away, the contents--most of them broken and useless now--spilling into the dirt. But among them was his beacon, he realized, the small device still blinking, still active. He tried to reach for it, then yelped in pain as the hunter’s free hand, having discarded the bag, grabbed his wrist in a vise grip that he feared would break his bones. But then it released him, those claws reaching over to grab the beacon and lift it. The alien growled, then barked some more words Silas couldn’t even articulate in his head, his vision spinning as the hand on the back of his neck squeezed and started making it difficult to breathe. 

Suddenly there was another voice, one that seemed a little more familiar. “Kh’uva! S’et-du et pyode-amedha.”

The one holding him seemed to loosen its grasp a touch, but it did not release him, and Silas could hear a menacing growl humming over his back. He dared not move his head to try and see better, for fear the grip on his neck would break his spine for such a thing, but he listened in bewildered terror as the two growled and argued fiercely. Eventually though it seemed his savior-turned-captor was bested, the claws leaving his neck and the pressure on his back letting up. He gasped, inhaling deeply to try and replenish his ragged lungs, before he was pushed--not necessarily gently but certainly not as roughly as before--onto his back and he found himself facing one of the twins he’d encountered. The golden eyes told him it was the male, and the alien clicked and rumbled to himself as he looked the muddy and bloody human over. “Bad day.” He remarked flatly, and Silas almost managed a laugh, before the pain in his side told him that it was a bad idea. “M-my...beacon.” He wheezed out, realizing the device was still gone. “Need...beacon.”

“Kh’uva.” The alien spoke, looking beyond Silas to where he assumed the other alien had retreated. There was a growl, then some more words Silas couldn’t make out, before the alien nodded, looking back to Silas. “It is safe. But cannot bring it with us. Kh’uva will hold onto it here. Now, can you walk?”

Silas gritted his teeth, trying to get a sense of his overall condition. It wasn’t good; everything hurt. His bruises from going over the falls, along with what he was sure were an unpleasant number of open wounds, and the burning of his mangled ankle, all made for a very distressing prognosis. “N...no, I don’t think so.”

“I carry you, then.” The alien grunted, before working his arms beneath Silas in a surprisingly gentle manner, hoisting him from the dirt and turning to stride into the jungle. “You are either very lucky, or very unlucky. And a fool. But the matriarch will see you, either way.”

“Oh...good.” Silas mumbled, struggling a bit with the whole situation; it was hard to believe. “She...won’t kill me, will she?” He half-smiled, before letting the expression fade. He wasn’t sure the alien would understand the expression or not.

The alien clicked, his mandibles twitching as he glanced down at Silas, his permanently-fearsome visage not exactly forthcoming with any expression. Then he shrugged, adjusting his grip on the human slightly. “Maybe. Maybe not. Her decision.”

Well, a “maybe” was certainly better than an outright “yes”, Silas reasoned, letting his head fall back as he exhaled heavily. For now at least he was just glad not to be stuck in that deathtrap of a river anymore, or with that other guy, Kh’uva. “...I’m Silas.” He mumbled, realizing there had never been introductions in the first place.

“Quiet, now. If matriarch lets you live, we can share names. Until then, just try not to die, pyode-amedha.”

Silas wasn’t sure what that meant; it didn’t seem ENTIRELY insulting, in that tone, but he doubted it was endearing either. Still, he couldn’t really argue at this point, simply sighing and letting his head fall back again. He didn’t like having to leave his beacon behind, but at least it wasn’t broken. With that, at least then Maeve would still know he was alive and hopefully not be provoked into sending soldiers to raid the jungle. It hadn’t gone how he planned, to be sure, but at least now the first step was taken care of. He was once again in the territory of the hunters, and with some luck they’d allow him to survive his second encounter.


	10. --uneasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas gets some treatment and an invitation--with some conditions.

The benefit to being hauled like a sack of meat into the alien encampment was that this time they seemed less hostile overall. Or at least, Silas didn’t hear as much snarling and jeering in alien tongues. He couldn’t look around so well, his neck having stiffened up painfully in the time they’d been walking, and it was taking all his concentration to try and keep it still as much as possible. He didn’t want to complain and risk running out his savior’s patience.

Up the steps they went, entering the pyramid. The walls were studded with lights that gave off a reddish-orange glow, and he wondered if that lighting was more comfortable for their eyes. Another thing to ask about, he mentally noted, grimacing a bit as his side twinged uncomfortably. His shirt felt like it was sticking to him awkwardly, but given how much mud had gotten on him he figured that was at least keeping his wounds from bleeding now. He just tried not to think about the risk of infection from alien microbes that might be in the dirt and water that might wreak havoc on his puny human body.

He could hardly remember the layout from his previous visit, given how circumstances had kept him from really appreciating the structure, but it seemed they were headed a different direction, higher up the levels on a slope that was gentle, but which turned in geometric patterns to fit within the pyramid structure. He assumed they were at least two “floors” up from where they’d entered when they finally reached a more open chamber, the space light with natural lighting primarily that still streamed in through the open slats in the stone walls. He risked turning his head a little just so he could see ahead of them, and he saw the matriarch in the middle of the chamber, kneeling in front of two slightly smaller figures. He recognized the sister-twin of the creature who carried him, and his gut twisted anxiously when he recognized the second as the matriarch’s son. The three of them were speaking in their strange tongue, their clicks and hisses punctuating their words, until the hunter carrying Silas clicked loudly and raised his voice to get their attention. “Dre’vik-kha?”

The matriarch turned her head, the long dreadlocks that she had previously worn bound back in a wild tangle left loose now, the tendrils streaming over her back and shoulders. Silas turned the word over in his mouth silently, “Dre’vik-kha.” Was that her name, then, or their word for her status? At the sight of Silas’ small, bloody and muddy frame in the hunter’s grasp she blinked, then let out a rattling sound he couldn’t quite interpret as she got to her feet and strode over. As big as the brother-twin was compared to Silas, her size was more impressive still even from his position of being lifted off the ground. “Ooman.” He could swear her tone was almost chastising, rather than threatening. “You have a death wish, surely.”

“N-no. Just had a bit of an accident, is all.” Silas meekly supplied, and she eyed him with a sharp gaze he couldn’t quite read but which didn’t entirely FEEL threatening.

“He fell in the ju’dha-qen. Kh’uva pulled him out before I got there. I think he fell over the falls, and his leg looks like a St-aku fish got hold of him.” The brother twin spoke. “He had a beacon on him; Kh’uva still has it.”

“A beacon.” The matriarch growled flatly, this time her tone much less friendly, but as she turned her gaze back onto Silas he shook his head. “It’s just...my personal beacon. Tracks my life signs, only rudimentary location.”

She raised a thick, lightly-spiked brow. “Perhaps smarter than you seem, if you know why such a thing concerns me.” She clicked in a strange pattern he could swear was laughter, before she extended her claws to take him from the brother-twin. “Epi-ta’kha, Kray-ekh’a. You may go. And you as well, Rok’aan.” She nodded to the brother-twin while his sister and the matriarch’s son--who eyed Silas warily but without obvious display of hostility--got up from their spots to leave the way they had come in. The brother-twin nodded, bowing his head respectfully and tapping a fist against his chest before joining them, leaving Silas now in the grasp of the powerful matriarch. Now that he was reasonably sure she didn’t intend to kill him for his trespass, he found himself better able to study her, awed by her size and strength, yet the care with which she carried him. For all their apparent ferocity they were certainly capable of delicate work; he had no doubt she could crush him bare-handed if she chose.

She said nothing now though, simply turning to carry him off through another entryway at a brisk pace. Staring up at her from below Silas traced the outline of the mandibles framing her fanged jaws, fascinated by the unique anatomy as he had been when he first saw her son on the laboratory table. Even on the way here he hadn’t studied the brother-twin--Rok’aan, she called him?--so intently. He had been too nervous about offending him somehow and being subsequently left for dead in the jungle.

“You should not have come back.” She spoke suddenly and it jolted him from his thoughts. “And yet you did.” Her gaze drifted down to him, the bright blue of her eyes standing out vividly against the dark hollows of her eye sockets and the dim lighting around them. “You are either very stupid or you have a death wish. Or,” she raised her brow again, “you have a reason.”

“I have a reason. But...I might be stupid too, I don’t know.” Silas half-laughed, wincing as it made his ribs twinge painfully. “I...I want to make amends. For what my people did, capturing your son. And I want to find a way for us to all….be civil, if not friendly.”

“Why should I care about making amends or being civil? Your people have invaded our planet, razed our jungle, kidnapped my kin, and all without even a declaration of your intent. My people are not diplomats.” She glared at him sharply. “I have been weighing the decision to come and burn that base of yours to the ground very heavily indeed.”

Silas blinked, absorbing the words--and their implications. It was hard to process but he had to force himself to, in order to make his case. “I...I don’t blame you. N-not that you need to justify it. I just...I didn’t know what this place was, when I came here. They didn’t tell me. But I don’t want this to turn into a war.” He licked his lips, which had suddenly gone very dry. “...Can I ask, please...how do you speak my language? How do you...know humans? I’ve never seen any documentation about encountering your species; I thought...I thought this was new for both of us, I guess.”

She eyed him very sternly, unblinking for an uncomfortably long time, but he held her gaze. He felt somehow that if he looked away, it might be a sign of weakness, might give her reason--well, MORE reason--to mistrust him. He was vaguely aware they’d been heading back downhill through another set of angular ramps, but he hadn’t dared take his eyes off her. Finally she grunted, apparently dismissing him from the stare-off as she looked ahead again, and Silas let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “My people have known of yours for a very long time. You are a young species, in the eyes of the Paya’khjute. The universe, as you’d call it. There is no ‘documentation’ because we have been careful not to LET there be. None of our kind has been taken captive--not long enough for meaningful study--by you oomans before. We find value in learning the tongues of those we come across, though. It allows our hunting grounds to expand and be respected across the Paya’khjute, by all except your kind it seems.”

“By..all? You mean other species?” He raised his brows at that. This was a breakthrough humanity had been chasing since they’d begun their interstellar expeditions, but which had evaded them so far. She nodded with an affirmative click, her mandibles flexing as she raised a hand--one arm plenty capable of supporting him alone--to push aside a heavy curtain that let them into another room. This one was undoubtedly medical in nature, but given the fact it was built from dark stone and metal combined it had a much more….rustic feel than the cold clinical nature of the laboratory back at the compound. But there were instruments here he had no hope of deciphering, display panels lit with red marks that were clearly writing of a sort, though no kind of script he was familiar with. She settled him on a bed--an actual padded cot rather than a hard stone slab like he’d been afraid of, before turning to pick out some tools. Despite the rough surroundings their tech was very clean and efficient-looking, enough to make him squirm a little with unbidden memories of being in a dentist’s office and looking at the strange contraptions there.

“Yes, other species.” She nodded, turning back to him and looking first to his leg, his ankle having gone rather numb throughout his travel time but the pain flaring back to life as she touched it, pulling his ragged pant leg out of the way so she could better examine the wound. He cried out despite himself, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle it as she let out a series of low clicks that seemed to be meant to reassure, though it was a fine line between comfort and threat, with their vocalizations. “Ah, you took a nasty bite. But it’s not broken, just badly dislocated.” She looked up at him briefly, her brow furrowing. “This will hurt, but only a moment. Just don’t move, or I will have to strap you down.”

“What are yo--FUCK!” He yelped as she grabbed his leg with one hand, his foot with the other, and gave it a short counter-twist. He felt the bones of his ankle crunch and slide together, the joint popping none-too-gently back into place, but the pain was already subsiding even when the stars dancing in his vision were still sparkling.

The matriarch uttered a low rattling sound, a chuckling in her throat that he grimaced at as he looked back up at her, and her upper mandibles twitched. “Are you smiling?” He groaned, vaguely insulted by the notion.

“Yes.” She stated simply, before picking up a small canister and giving it a brief shake, her free hand pulling the tattered boot from his foot before she sprayed something that stung at first, before becoming quite pleasantly cool and tingly, across the chewed-up skin where the fish-beast had bit him. “There. Now it will not rot.”

“Rot?” He grimaced again. “Are they venomous?”

“Mh, no. But the St-aku are voracious. Eat everything they can. Dead things, waste from the beasts who visit the river.” She waved a hand vaguely. “We do not even like to eat them, because of it. They require heavy cooking.”

“And….the water, the mud, it won’t hurt me?” He warily regarded her, wondering if her familiarity with Earth and its people also meant she might know the more technical details.

“No.” She replied simply, not bothering to elaborate as she moved up to his midsection where his shirt was torn but stuck in odd, stiff angles due to the mud caking it. She took a knife now--rather more frightening than a doctor’s scalpel, but Silas didn’t dare protest as she set about cutting the ruined fabric off of him. “You know we do not want your people to find us here.” It was a statement, not a question, her eyes darting briefly to his before she looked back at her task, carefully pulling the cloth out from the edges of his battered but thankfully intact protective vest so she could see the injured parts of his side where he’d gouged himself on the rocks. “So you know there is more than they’ve told you.”

“Yes.” He admitted, setting his head back so he could simply stare at the ceiling. “...The Commander there is my sister. I didn’t think she would hide stuff like this from me, but….well, now it’s obvious there’s more going on. I just want to stop things from getting violent. That wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

“Why concern yourself with our welfare? It’s your people who would suffer if it came to a proper war.” She stated plainly, spraying the stingy-but-tingly stuff on him again as she finished cleaning him up. “What did you come here to do, exactly?”

“I want….I want to understand your people. I think maybe if humanity knew your kind better, they wouldn’t be so quick to treat you like enemies automatically. I’m a scientist, not a soldier; I just want to learn.” 

She blinked at him, then abruptly laughed, the sound a mixture of recognizable sound and the strange rattling in her throat. “Humans will consider us even MORE of a threat if they knew us, little ooman. You’re terribly naive.”

Silas felt his cheeks burn a bit at that, but he shook it off quickly. “Maybe so. But I still want to understand. And if there’s any chance of a mutual understanding helping our people get along, I think it’s worth a shot.”

She stopped laughing, regarding him with that intense gaze again. “You show more courage than I’ve come to expect from your kind, I will grant you that. But you’re a fool if you think getting to know us will turn your leaders’ warmongering ways. I have seen how humans treat each other, I have watched as those with power tormented and enslaved those who had none. And I have killed many of them who dared to think they could stand against me.” She leaned in, Silas’ breath hitching as she leveled her face with his, fearsome glare burning mercilessly down at him. “The Yautja have nothing to prove to humanity. We know what we are and we know our place in the Paya’khjute. But our violence is performed with honor, following our code and Paya’s leitjin-de hma'mi'de. In the Gods’ practice.” She jabbed a claw into his chest, making him wince even with the plated vest. “You humans act without honor and it is accepted as normal. Yautja who break the codes are cast off, labeled Ic’jit, Bad-bloods. But yours become leaders, worshipped and followed with little question.”

“I’m sorry.” Silas closed his eyes tightly, suddenly worried again that she might decide to go against the treatment she just rewarded him with in favor of striking him dead. The fact she had apparently killed humans was not exactly a surprise, but to hear it stated so matter-of-factly was chilling. 

She was silent, and he risked opening his eyes again to see her regarding him, her anger diffused and her expression--as best he could determine, at least--thoughtful. Then she huffed, standing straight again. “If you truly wish to know us, to understand us as more than the monsters your people see us as, then I can grant you this. But there will be conditions. Your beacon must be disabled; communicate what you must to clear that with your leaders. And you will not be permitted to leave until I say so.”

Silas’ stomach clenched. “Wh-really? I...you mean I’d have to stay here?”

“These are my primary conditions. Accept them, or go back empty-handed and accept that violence is coming whether you like it or not.” She regarded him levelly. Silas shook his head briefly; there was no way he’d convince Maeve to clear him for such a steep demand. But then...he looked back to the matriarch, who watched him intently, her ever-fearsome visage difficult to read--but not impossible. There was something there, behind the commanding glare of her eyes, something that told him she hoped he would agree. She was extending this offer of peace, limited as it might be, out of a genuine place.

“Okay.” He finally nodded. “My commander won’t be happy, but...I will let her know. Thank you. For this and the medical care.” He gestured over himself.

She eyed him quietly a moment longer, then nodded. “Make your communication quickly. They will not be able to track your position here, so do not give them information on it. Or I WILL add your skull to my wall.” And with that she turned to put her tools away and leave him to his communicator, still functioning somehow despite his ordeal.


End file.
